Anywhere But Here
by Mya Scarlet
Summary: How do you love someone who can never put you first? A security analyst falls for General Kenobi. Obi-Wan/OFC. A bit of everything - romance, adventure, humour and angst. Complete!
1. Anywhere But Here

**Anywhere But Here**

_by Mya Scarlet_

Author's Notes

This is an AU story inspired by highly enjoyable fics of the (sadly now defunct) "General's Grrls", which used the character of Obi-Wan from SW Episode I extrapolated forwards in time to his role as General Kenobi.

My OFC, Chloe O'Brian, was inspired by the character with the same name from the TV series "24". I also use some of the same types of storylines as found in that show in elements of this story.

This story is meant to be a bit of fun. Don't take it too seriously, and please let me know if you're reading. I love comments, they keep me writing!

* * *

**Chapter One: Anywhere But Here  
**

On the sixth morning of her internship with the Jedi, Chloe O'Brian jumped aboard the crowded transport shuttle that would take her to the Temple District, squeezed into a standing space by the window, took a melancholy gulp of her coffee and admitted to herself that she would much rather be going somewhere else.

The styroplast coffee cup bore a cartoon-like depiction of a grinning Besalick and a slogan proclaiming the 'best food and drink in CoCo Town, guaranteed!' For the whole of the previous week, Chloe had been too excited to make her usual breakfast stop at Dex's Diner. But today she had craved not only caffeine but the sight of a friendly face, and she had been so reluctant to leave the diner she had almost risked missing her transport.

Only last week, on her first day, she had made this same journey, barely able to contain her excitement. Hundreds of students at the Coruscant Academy of Sciences had competed for the single internship position. Many of them would have been prepared to pay a great deal to swap places with her; in fact she had refused a few eye-watering offers from the sons and daughters of powerful senators and businessmen. That first morning, as she was led through the lofty halls and expansive chambers usually restricted to members of the Order, Chloe had struggled to believe she wasn't dreaming.

Unfortunately, the reality of working for the Jedi had proved to be no less than a crushing disappointment.

Chloe's com unit was beeping. She retrieved it from her bag, looping her coffee-holding arm around the rail to keep herself upright as the transport lurched to a stop.

_Galactic Museum_, the automated voice announced.

The com beeped again. Chloe looked down. _Caller unidentified_. She flipped the unit open.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, roomie."

The line was a little faint but the female voice was unmistakable. Chloe grinned. "Matty! Where are you? I thought you were due back last night?"

"Yeah it's ridiculous, isn't it? I only got a two hour stopover. I called in to grab some stuff but you were asleep. Didn't want to wake you."

"Oh you should have! I wanted to catch up. Where are you now? The line's not great."

"On a mid-rim shuttle to Jabiim. Nasty trouble brewing there if you ask me but I'll wait to see if my theories are right before I say any more." Matty spoke so quickly most people struggled to keep up, but Chloe was used to it by now.

"What's up with the line?" she asked, when her friend finally paused for breath.

"Oh, my com's out, but I managed to persuade the captain to let me use one of his secure channels. But what about you? I'm dying to know how the internship's going! What are you working on? Can you even tell me?"

Chloe grinned, imagining some poor, bewildered shuttle captain submitting to Matty's ruthless onslaught of persuasion. "Na," she replied, "not much chance of that. They've just got me in the archives, cataloguing ten-year-old intel. I get the impression they were forced to take me on. Some kind of political standoff between the Jedi and the Senate. I get the feeling it was supposed to be someone else. But they got me instead, and now no one seems to know what to do with me."

"But you've only been there a week sweetie," Matty said, "maybe they're just sussing you out. They've never done anything like this before, you know. You're the first."

"Yeah, I guess." Chloe drained her now-cold coffee with a frown.

"So what are they like?" Matty asked, and Chloe knew there was a mischievous look on her friend's pretty face.

"Who?"

"The Jedi! Are they super-fearsome or condescending or inscrutable or what? I need to know."

"Well I haven't met many of them. I saw Master Yoda from a distance and he's, I don't know… short? Other than that I've only really spoken to Master Nu who's in charge of the archives and she's ancient and prim but pleasant enough I suppose, and then there's my supervisor Li-Sei who's incredibly beautiful and elegant and hates me."

"Oh no! Poor you! But hey, Jedi-bitch! That's unusual. Could be interesting."

"Hmm, that's a very positive way of thinking about it," Chloe replied, as the transport lurched again. She frowned, peering out of the steamed-up window.

_Temple Plaza_, the voice announced.

_Shit_. Chloe fumbled with her bag. "Look Matty, I'm nearly there. You know I'd love to talk to you all day but I'm going to have to go in a few minutes. I'm nearly late as it is." Squeezing between bodies, she lunged to push the door exit button with her elbow.

"Sure darling," Matty said. "But… there's just one teeny tiny thing I wanted to ask you…"

"Hmm?" Chloe jumped from the transport, dodging traffic to cross the street. The Jedi Temple loomed ahead, across the plaza, large, grey and solid, its spires standing proudly against the blue sky. It was rather worrying, Matty had once said, that while most religions were satisfied with one phallic symbol on their buildings, for some reason the Jedi needed five.

"Well, you know who's supposed to be returning to Coruscant," Matty's voice on the line interrupted her train of thought. "Don't you?"

"Erm… No."

"Oh come on Chloe, it was all over the holonet yesterday."

Chloe deposited her empty coffee cup in a refuse bin marked in gold with the temple logo. "Nope. Didn't see it."

"You know! The famous duo. Skywalker and Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker, the one they're calling the Hero With No Fear, and his master, who was, if you remember, the first Jedi to kill a Sith in a millennium."

"Oh yes… them," Chloe said vaguely, glancing at her watch again. She really was cutting it fine today. Li-Sei was going to love the opportunity to tick her off for being late. "You don't buy into that hype about them, do you? I thought you would know better. Surely it's just propaganda?"

"Exactly. But now is your chance, our chance, to find out the truth."

Chloe stopped walking. "Oh no. No you don't." She shook her head. "Don't get me involved in your dirty work. I thought you considered yourself a serious journalist, anyway. Why would you be interested in celebrity gossip?"

Matty laughed. "Well for one, I'm curious about these two, just like every other red-blooded female in the galaxy. Except you, that is, my dear, and don't scowl, I know you're doing it."

Chloe scowled even harder and started walking again. "I'm not scowling."

"But seriously, Chloe, we're at war. The galaxy needs heroes right now. If they really are what they are claimed to be, people need to know. Not everyone believes the rubbish Palpatine's spin machine spouts, especially not in the Outer Rim."

"If you say so," Chloe replied.

"Do you even know what they look like?"

"Yeah, I guess… I mean I must have seen pictures…"

"Thought not. Look in your bag. I put a datapad in there last night."

"Matty!"

"Just listen. Take a look, when you have a spare moment, it sounds like you have plenty. I've put their photos on it, along with my notes from their public biographies. And it's a press datapad with a built-in camera on the back. So if you get a chance for a moment alone with either of them, and they're feeling chatty, perhaps you could sweet-talk them into a little interview…"

Chloe snorted. "You know my sweet-talking skills are practically zero." She flipped open her bag as she walked, finding the grey spine of the unfamiliar-looking datapad but deciding against taking it out now as her bag was full to bursting point. Ahead of her lay the entrance to the Temple, but the steps were crowded with people. The clock at the west side of the plaza began to strike the hour. "Look Matty I'm actually late now, I'll have to go."

"Okay darling, but remember, if you have a moment. It might just lighten up your day. And if not, try to relax anyway. Lie back and think of your future career. That's what I do."

Chloe laughed, weaving her way in the crowd. Two shuttles swept in low overhead and Chloe had to shout over the noise. "And you behave yourself, Matilda Jaks."

"Of course I will!"

"And stay safe." Chloe's face grew serious. "I mean it."

"Yes, you too. I'll call you when I'm back in reach of civilisation."

They said their goodbyes, and Chloe snapped the com unit shut. Ahead it didn't look good. The crowd was impenetrable. What on Coruscant were they so worked up about? Chloe skirted to the right. There was a discreet staff entrance to the building around this side, if she remembered correctly. That would have to beat fighting through a mass of bodies. Li-Sei made her feel clumsy and unfeminine as it was, the last thing she needed was to be both late _and_ dishevelled.

The entrance proved easy enough to find, even sunk half a level below the plaza. But getting in was another matter.

Five minutes later, Chloe slid her security pass across the scanner for the fifth time. The little red light blinked mockingly. She bent to squint at the display, wriggling her shoulder as she did. Why did her bag have to be so heavy today? _Chip not recognised_, she read. _Enter card number at the keypad_.

Chloe looked down at her card, complete with 20-digit security number in tiny writing. "You've got to be kidding," she muttered, finally giving in the pain in her shoulder and dropping her bag on the ground. Her hair whipped about; it was windy along this side of the building. Tucking a loose strand behind her ear, she slowly and patiently typed in the numbers. They appeared, concealed, as little Jedi logos on the screen.

_Processing_, the display said calmly_._

She waited.

The red light blinked again. No.

"Okay." Chloe took a few deep breaths, trying to exhale her frustration. "One last time."

Again she typed in the numbers. Again the display told her it was processing.

She waited.

The green light came on! She was in!

Except the door didn't open.

"What?" Chloe looked back at the display.

_Iris scan required. Place eye level at marked position. _

Okay, she could do that. That was no problem. She stood on tiptoes to reach the marked level, hoping she was holding still enough. The scanner beeped.

Chloe waited for something to happen.

The red light came back on. Text scrolled across the display.

_Unknown error. Process aborted. Please scan card to begin._

It was during her subsequent twisting, half-stamping, and altogether rather childish expression of irritation at the stupid kriffing door system that Chloe fell over her bag.

And the fact it was her own fault made it ten times more annoying. She stumbled backwards, cursing, to land heavily on her bottom on the cold hard duracrete.

Her ankle hurt. The contents of her bag were strewn across the floor. For a second she entertained the possibility of giving up and going home.

But she couldn't. Matty had been right, Chloe was the first to be taken on this so-called internship programme. And the Jedi did need help from the security services, even if they didn't want to admit it. She might have to spend a frustrating summer contributing absolutely nothing to the war effort, but just having been employed in any formal capacity by the Jedi would put her in a unique position next summer when she graduated and joined the Intelligence Corps.

So she couldn't run home and hide, no matter how much she wanted to. Chloe sighed, looking around. Her belongings were scattered everywhere.

She was retrieving her keys from beneath a bench set into the back wall of the sunken entranceway when she heard footsteps. A glance to her left revealed a brown-robed figure stopped at the doorway. A man, from the set of his shoulders, most likely a Jedi. But his hood was up, she couldn't see his face. Polished tan boots were visible below his robe.

Chloe hastily stuffed her belongings in her bag. Matty's datapad wouldn't fit. She clutched it to her chest as she scrambled to her feet.

"Excuse me!" She called out weakly. No response.

"Excuse me," she repeated, limping towards him, placing a hand tentatively on his arm. He turned his head towards her, dropping his hood as she continued, "do you think you could just…" But she stopped mid-sentence.

His gaze locked with hers.

She couldn't breathe.

Chloe became vaguely aware that he was regarding her with amusement, but she was still helpless, captured by eyes that seemed at once to reflect the sky and her innermost thoughts and then something else, something mysterious that suddenly she yearned for, desperately, even though she didn't know what it was, something that lay just out of her reach, something that she might understand if she just kept on looking at him.

And then the spell was broken. Those eyes left hers and swept down her body, then back up again.

The mystery was unsolved, and Chloe was left with an ache of longing in her chest and a trail of fire on her skin.

It was only then that she realised she was smiling, rather foolishly, at him. Whoever he was. But, apparently, he was no longer amused by her. He was frowning, and his cheeks were flushed pink.

Then he spoke.

"I don't think so." He looked down in disgust at her hand, which still lay on his robed arm.

She dropped it instinctively. Without another word, he turned on his heel, negotiating the door system with a wave of his hand. Then, flashing her a final glance of intense disapproval, he strode inside, sending the door slamming shut with a sharp flick of his wrist.

Chloe's mouth hung open.

_I don't think so?_ What had he meant by that? And why had he been so horrified by her? Just how terrible did she look?

"Damn arrogant Jedi," she muttered, pulling out her security card with renewed determination but shaking hands. This was, quite possibly, the most irritating place she had ever been.

Just as she was about to slide her card across the scanner, a tiny circular cover on one side of the display panel caught her eye. Chloe smiled, instantly calming down as she slid a fingernail underneath and flicked it upwards.

Checking left and right, more out of instinct than any sense of guilt, she fished in her bag for a data jack and slipped it into the newly exposed socket.

Ten minutes later, Chloe crept into the cramped librarian's office in the Jedi archives, hoping upon hope that some miracle had waylaid her superior that morning. The was office empty, and thanking the Maker, she rushed to sit down, turning on her monitor with lightning speed and arranging the contents of her desk to give the appearance of having been there a good half hour.

Only a heartbeat later, Li-Sei breezed in, glossy black hair swinging with each step.

"Ah, Chloe," she said.

This was her usual greeting. Not, _Good morning_ _Chloe_, or, _Hello_ _Chloe_. Just, _Ah_, _Chloe_, as one might respond to the sight of something persistently irritating, something once would really prefer to never see again.

And yet Li-Sei looked a little bit different this morning, Chloe noticed. The Jedi's cheeks were flushed, her manicured fingers tapping nervously against her hip.

"Stack twenty is waiting and ready to be cleared out," Li-Sei said, "I've already checked there's nothing classified in there, so I can authorise you to go in. It's very dusty though, did you remember to bring some old clothes today like I told you to last week or have you forgotten?"

"No, ma'am, I've got them in my bag," Chloe said, driving imaginary daggers into the other woman's almond-shaped eyes whist flashing the most insincere smile she could manage.

Li-Sei seemed satisfied. "Good. And you might need to work late today. Obi-" she made an exaggerated show of stopping herself, then laughed, "I mean _General_ Kenobi has a great deal of work for us. I've just been speaking with him. He promised to call in later, so you may even get to meet him." Her perfectly pink lips curved upwards with what was presumably supposed to be benevolent superiority.

"Sure," Chloe said, pulling an old shirt and leggings from her bag. Perhaps the supposedly great General Kenobi would take the time to read her file, and invite her to work intel on his next mission. Perhaps he would be charming and gallant, like knights were supposed to be. Perhaps he would give her an excuse to get out in the field, or out of the Temple, or even just out of this wretched office.

"Oh, and Chloe," Li-Sei had paused by the doorway, "you might need to go and get your pass reset. Apparently the entire external security system has gone down."

Chloe quickly took the data jack from her pocket, stuffed it well out of sight in her bag, and directed her very real smile of satisfaction squarely at the wall.


	2. Misunderstandings

It took Chloe more than six hours to clear out the horrible old storage stack. After changing out of her dusty clothes, she made her way back to the main archive hall, shivering as she walked along the left hand side of the enormous room. It was cold in here; the temperature was carefully controlled to suit the records, not those who accessed them, and the blue glow emanating from the data banks to her left made it feel even colder.

Chloe sighed. Her hair felt terrible. It probably looked even worse, and she could only imagine how bad, since there was no mirror in the 'fresher down the corridor from the archives. Perhaps Li-Sei possessed the genes for perfect grooming, Chloe thought, it wouldn't be surprising if she somehow maintained her appearance without ever actually needing to _look _at her reflection.

At the end of the hall, Chloe crossed the row of desks and turned right, towards the librarian's office. It was nicer here. Brighter. Shafts of sunlight slanted from windows high above her head, reflecting off the polished marble floor by her feet._ Very _shiny marble, Chloe thought, slowing her steps. She looked around.

Okay, in hindsight it was a stupid idea. But she only realised how stupid when, kneeling on the floor, trying to check her hair in the reflection from the floor, she heard the scrape of a chair from the direction of the main hall, the hall that had been deserted just a few moments ago. Chloe jumped and looked up.

And there he was, sat at a desk, watching her: the obnoxious Jedi from that morning. Chloe flushed red. The Jedi frowned at her. Chloe scowled back. Carefully, she got to her feet, trying to give the impression she had been doing something perfectly ordinary, sensible and Jedi-like.

He was still looking at her, but blandly now. Impassively. Chloe raised an eyebrow, but didn't wait for his reaction, instead turning sharply and walking in the opposite direction, towards the office.

Inside, she found her desk piled high with datapads, brand new and ready to be catalogued. Chloe groaned and slumped down in her chair, putting her face in her hands. She really did feel awful today; her stomach was churning with a mixture of too many things, her skin prickling with dust and irritation. Perhaps she was simply tired. Tired and annoyed.

There was knock at the door.

She ignored it. Perhaps if she kept quiet whoever it was would give up and go away.

Another knock, louder this time.

Chloe sighed. "Come in."

It was him. Of course it was.

She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see the eyes that had such a strange effect on her earlier.

"I think I owe you an apology," he said.

Yes, you do, Chloe thought, pretending to be engrossed in the details of the flimsiplast printout in her hands. She heard him walk around to the front of her desk.

"So… I'm sorry," he continued, in a formal, upper-class Coruscanti accent. "This morning, I didn't realise you worked here. I'm afraid I've been away for some time."

Chloe raised her head, and smiled at him quickly. "No problem. Don't worry about it."

"It's just…" he started again. She dared to make eye contact as he hesitated, and to her relief found that here, in the flat artificial light of the office, his blue eyes seemed perfectly ordinary.

He was still speaking.

"…so if you could have everything catalogued by this evening…"

Wait. Hold on a moment. Rewind. What was that?

He'd only come to apologise because he expected her to _do some work for him? _

Anger flared like a beacon in Chloe's chest.

"Sorry," she said, fixing him with a ferocious gaze. "I'm afraid that will be impossible. I've got some very important work to do for General Kenobi, and he needs it to be done by the end of the day. And he's incredibly important, and as far as I'm aware, not impolite, ignorant, or presumptuous, like you."

Chloe paused, wondering for a millisecond if she'd actually said that out loud.

Erm, yes, apparently, she had. "S-so I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow," she finished, and looked down quickly, hastily arranging the contents of her desk.

Silence. And now is the point when you leave, she thought, her cheeks burning. Now. Please.

She heard him walk to the door. Good.

Then she heard him chuckle.

Chloe looked up in surprise, to find him grinning at her, and to find something in that white-toothed, sparkle-eyed grin that urged her to laugh with him, even though he was laughing at her; even though he was almost certainly the rudest man she had ever met.

And he was STILL laughing.

He wiped his eyes. Then, noticing her horrified expression, his face grew serious. "I'm sorry." He shook his head. "But you are wrong. I'm afraid Obi-Wan Kenobi is both impolite _and_ presumptuous."

"You know him?" Chloe asked quietly, suddenly feeling uneasy.

"Of course I do." He leant one hand against the doorframe and ran the other through his hair.

"He's me."

* * *

The tower of datapads lay untouched on her desk. Chloe's hand shook as she sipped her tea. Making the drink had been the sole productive endeavour of the twenty minutes since Obi-Wan had left. She couldn't recall what else he had said; the actual leaving had happened in a pink haze of embarrassment.

She'd spent the following ten minutes fantasising that a wormhole might open up right here in the office and swallow her whole.

It hadn't. Cursed space-time continuum.

Chloe's eyes flicked to her bag. It lay open at the end of her desk. The corner of Matty's datapad was poking out.

The datapad containing detailed notes on Jedis Skywalker and Kenobi.

Chloe bit her lip. Matty liked to summarise people, planets, pretty much everything, in a single, snappy sentence. How would she have summarised Obi-Wan?

How about, Chloe wondered, _Obi-Wan Kenobi. Almost certainly a complete pain in the ass?_

The temptation was too great to resist. Chloe reached for the datapad and turned it on, quickly locating and opening the file named marked with his name.

Below the title, _Senior Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi_, was the tagline Matty had assigned to him. Chloe read it eagerly.

_Something of an enigma.__  
_  
Well, that didn't preclude him from being a pain in the ass, she thought, wrinkling her nose and letting her eyes wander to the first paragraph.

_A phenomenal pilot who doesn't want to fly. A devastating warrior who'd rather not fight. A negotiator without peer who, apparently, would rather sit alone in a quiet cave and meditate. A gentle, noble man; a hero; a role model. But who is the real Obi-Wan Kenobi?__  
_  
Chloe smiled. Matty was good.

But, Chloe discovered, as she scrolled down, her friend's question remained unanswered. The remainder of the file was in note form, bullet points and quotations neatly arranged under headings. Chloe scanned the document impatiently, reading snippets here and there.

_…left the Order temporarily when he was fourteen… first Jedi to kill a Sith in approximately 1000 years, during the battle of Naboo… _

She ploughed on, looking for more recent information, or, ideally, evidence of horrible personality defects.

_…widely respected for negotiating diplomatic solutions to aggressive conflicts… tipped for High Council membership… _

Yeah, so he was important. She'd been right about that. Didn't exclude him from basic civility.

Then, in the very last section, one phrase caught her eye.

_…strong dislike of journalists…_

"Gotcha," Chloe exclaimed, triumphantly, scrolling back to the beginning of the section entitled _Media and personal relationships._

_An intensely private man, Kenobi is known to have a strong dislike of journalists, often taking extreme measures to avoid the press. He refuses to be interviewed without prior appointment and will not answer questions about his personal life, particularly his status regarding the notorious Jedi celibacy vow, and his rumoured involvement with former royal handmaiden and senior member of the Naboo aristocracy, Lady Sabé Essara.__  
_  
Chloe sat back in her chair. No wonder Matty had wanted her to try to talk to him. Sounds like it would be an exclusive. She hoped Matty wouldn't be too disappointed; what Chloe had said couldn't exactly be construed as _sweet-talk_.

Then, Chloe frowned, and leant forward to read the paragraph again.

_…strong dislike of journalists… __  
_  
_…often taking extreme measures to avoid the press…. _

She flushed hot, and then she flushed cold.

Slowly, she turned over the datapad, already ninety-five percent sure of what she was about to see.

* * *

Just over four hours later, Chloe rubbed her eyes and yawned, surveying her completed work in satisfaction. It had been the least she could do, given the circumstances. Obi-Wan's datapads lay neatly in her out-tray, the list of newly-catalogued entries filling the screen of her terminal.

Chloe checked the wall-chrono. It was late. Li-Sei had left an hour earlier, having an "incredibly important" meeting to attend elsewhere in the temple. Chloe stood up, turned off her machine and grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, remembering her conversation with Dex that morning. The prospect of a laid-back evening meal in the diner had never been more appealing. Get out of here, back to the real world, stuff herself on comfort food, watch the patrons come and go, listen to Dex's crazy stories…

The small library office was quiet without the background hum of the terminal, and the silence was almost suffocating, dizzying. Just as Chloe finished turning off the lights and reached for the door activation panel, it suddenly swooshed open to reveal a cloaked figure.

Chloe yelped in surprise. "I… er, General Kenobi. Hi. I mean… good evening. Sir."

"Hello again," he said.

"C-can I help you with something?" She felt her cheeks flush when she remembered exactly how rude she had been to him earlier.

"Possibly. I'm looking for some information and I thought you might be able to help..." He glanced over her shoulder and into the dim room, frowning.

Chloe turned to follow his gaze to her desk. Matty's datapad still lay there, upturned. And there it was, inscribed in large white letters, reflecting the ambient light from the open door, just below the small lens of the datapad's built-in camera. One word.

PRESS.

Chloe took a deep breath, and rubbed a hand over her forehead.

"I'm so sorry…"

"I see you've…" he spoke at the same time. "Go on."

She looked up at him. "You thought I was a journalist. This morning, at the entrance."

He nodded, his expression sombre, one hundred percent the stern Jedi General. "And you're not?"

"No." She shook her head. "It's Matty's datapad, I mean I have this friend, and she's a journalist and she… well it's a long story, but I can assure you I'm not a journalist, I'm a grad student at the Academy of Sciences, and I'm sorry I insulted you, I didn't really mean… well, I did at the time, but I don't think you're-"

"-impolite, ignorant, or presumptuous?" he interrupted, calmly.

Chloe winced at every word. "No," she said quietly, looking away. "I was just having a really bad day. I'm sorry."

"Hmm. I think the single apology will be quite adequate. Miss…?"

His hand was outstretched. She stepped closer shake it. "O'Brian. Chloe O'Brian."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss O'Brian. And how long have you been working here?"

"Just over a week."

"And how are you finding it?"

"Oh, very… um, informative?" Chloe said, hopefully, trying her hardest to be diplomatic.

To her surprise, the grave Jedi General's solemn expression cracked, his lips turning upwards into a small smile.

Chloe smiled back nervously, suddenly feeling shy, dropping his hand and looking away. "I… I've finished your archiving," she said, indicating her out-tray.

"So I see," he said. "Good. In that case, I have a request…" He folded his arms across his chest, looking down at the floor and back up again.

And this is the point, Chloe thought, where he tells you to pack up your stuff, because your services are no longer required…

But when Obi-Wan spoke, it was to say something rather different. "I need information, and rather urgently," he began. "I'm looking for a detailed breakdown of the spy droid algorithms used by the Sinsu tribe in the Dakoda system. Trouble is, it's all a bit of a mystery. But if you're leaving…"

Chloe swallowed as she took it all in: _spy droids, the Sinsu_... it all sounded intriguing, and exactly the kind of thing she'd been dreaming of working on.

She smiled broadly at Obi-Wan, thanking the Goddess for second chances, fighting the sudden urge to laugh with relief.

"On the contrary, General Kenobi, I'd be more than happy to help," she said, flicking the lights back on and forgetting her need for food and sleep as a surge of adrenalin ran through her.

"Algorithms are my speciality".


	3. The Onori Problem

"Got it!" exclaimed Chloe, looking up at her companion triumphantly.

Obi-Wan strode around the large study table to peer over her shoulder.

"I knew I'd seen it somewhere," she continued, waving her hand at the screen. "The Sinsu algorithms have been studied before, but only in specialist journals."

Obi-Wan frowned at the list of formulae on the display. "Well, none of that makes much sense to me." He rubbed his chin. "Send it to me anyway, I'll get Anakin to take a look."

"Sure," Chloe said quietly, a little disappointed in his reaction after she'd spent the best part of an hour searching for that particular article.

Obi-Wan looked down at her and smiled. "Sorry. I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to find this without you." He frowned. "I just hope we can interpret it before it's too late."

Chloe bit her lip. This might be her only chance.

"I can help," she blurted out, before she could change her mind.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, quizzically.

"If... I mean... I know it's not my job," she continued, "but if you need some extra help, I could... I've studied this sort of thing for years. I probably know more about it than anyone else on Coruscant."

Surprised, Obi-Wan straightened up, folding his arms across his chest. "You do? What exactly are you studying at the Academy?"

"Information theory and cryptography."

"Level?"

"Masters."

"And do you have any operational experience?"

"Not much. Although I did work on a consultancy project with my professor last year. Do you remember the JK-thirteen incident on Ord Cestus?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course. The Jedi Killers. I was involved with that mission myself."

"Well, the Intelligence Corps requested a targeted virus to disable the droids remotely. It was a security policy, just in case the mission failed and the droids were reproduced in vast numbers as everyone feared."

"But I thought the JK-thirteens were immune?"

Chloe smiled. "So everyone at I.C. thought. That's why they came to us."

"So your professor managed to design a virus?"

"No," Chloe said, turning back to her screen. "I did."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan said. "I don't remember anything about a virus…"

Chloe shrugged, tapping at her keyboard. "They didn't need it. While we were working on the development we discovered the droids were incapable of mass-murder. As you may remember, their biological component couldn't stand it. Problem solved."

Obi-Wan chuckled, muttering something under his breath. Chloe thought she caught the words "impudent" and "pretty".

"Pardon?"

"Oh, nothing."

So, would you like my help on this one?" Chloe struggled to contain her excitement. Hopefully, she didn't sound too desperate.

"Well, it would be highly irregular…" Obi-Wan said, running a finger and thumb lightly over his moustache. "But, possible, I suppose, if the Council approve. I tell you what, if Anakin can't decipher it, I'll make a request to the Council tomorrow morning, asking if we may involve you."

"Great! I mean, sure. Thank you. Sir."

Chloe noticed just the hint of a smile at the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth as she followed his gaze back to the screen. "Just keep it to yourself for now," he said. "This may need to be done off record."

She nodded, quickly tapped a few keys to send him the file.

Obi-Wan made himself busy clearing up the numerous datapads and flimsy sheets strewn across the table. Chloe finished what she was doing, powered off the machine and pushed her chair back, feeling shaky and a little unsteady as she stood up too quickly.

Obi-Wan looked up. "Thanks for your help tonight, Chloe."

Something about the soft timbre of his voice sent a flush of warmth over her skin, and Chloe swayed dizzily.

She glimpsed Obi-Wan's concerned expression for only a moment before the world turned grey and her legs gave way.

He was around the table and catching her before she could hit the floor.

"Hmm...mmm..." she managed, looking up at him drowsily. The room was still spinning.

"Easy… When exactly did you last have something to eat?" he asked, checking her pulse as he lowered her gently to the floor. Chloe remembered her desperate craving for dinner... that would have been about three hours ago.

She sat and rubbed her eyes with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, trying to get rid of the grey splotches in her vision. "Erm... breakfast?" she ventured, sheepishly, with half a smile.

"Dear me." He shook his head. "Then I think we'd better get you some food. Do you think you can stand up?"

Chloe nodded. He helped her up, slowly.

"Still okay?" She nodded again, trying not to think about the fact his arm was wrapped securely around her waist, and instead trying to focus her attention on getting her feet to move. She barely noticed where they were going as he manoeuvred her out of the office, across the corridor and into a turbolift.

"Nearly there..." he glanced down at her and Chloe managed a weak smile as she faintly detected the swoosh of a door opening over the sound of blood pounding in her ears. Just moments later, he was helping her to sit on a soft, very comfortable couch.

"I'll just be a moment," he said, as she flopped back into the cushions and closed her eyes.

"Here, drink a little of this." Chloe sipped the liquid from the cup he held to her lips. It was cool and sweet and seemed to ease her aching head and trembling hands in a few moments. She managed to take the cup and drink some more, then open her eyes slowly and sit up a little.

Obi-Wan was crouching in front of her.

"Oolong flower tea". He said, pouring some more into her cup from an earthenware jug. "It has excellent healing properties."

Chloe drained the rest of the tea.

"Thank you, General Kenobi," Chloe said, weakly, offering him back the cup. Her strength was beginning to return, along with the beginnings of embarrassment over what had just happened.

"Obi-Wan," he said, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, his eyes focused intently on hers, his fingers lingering on her skin as he took the cup.

Time seemed to slow down. For a moment, Chloe was certain he would kiss her. She felt light-headed, and every nerve in her body seemed to be concentrated on the point of contact with his hand. Her eyes were still locked with his, glittering indigo in the subdued lighting of the room. She started to sway forwards as she noticed his lips parted slightly, his breath on her cheek…

Abruptly, Obi-Wan stood up, took a step backwards and turned away.

Chloe was still trying to work out what just happened, and trying to remember how to breathe, when she heard the hiss of the door activation, and a tall young man strode into the apartment.

"I thought I'd better bring you some dinner, Master," he said, patting the brown paper bag under his arm, before stopping as he spotted Chloe.

"Hello," the young man said, with a smile, "what's going on here?" He threw a questioning glance to Obi-Wan.

"Hello," Chloe said simply, vaguely enjoying the sight of Obi-Wan looking every so slightly flustered. He cleared his throat.

"Ah yes. Anakin, have you met Miss O'Brian from the library? She's been helping me with some research."

"A pleasure," said Anakin, striding over to the couch to shake her hand. "I've just brought Master Kenobi some dinner. I try to make a habit of it when he's working on something new. You know sometimes, he'll go for a whole day and forget to eat?"

Anakin dumped the bag on the small table in front of the couch and opened it, taking out various cartons and boxes.

"Really?" Chloe smiled, turning to glance up at Obi-Wan, who simply raised his eyebrows at her. Then the aroma of the food hit her nostrils and she realised just how hungry she was.

"There's plenty," said Anakin, taking a piece of some sort of savoury pie out of one of the boxes and tucking in. "Please help yourself," he gestured, with a mouthful of food.

"So uncivilised..." Obi-Wan muttered, shaking his head, handing Chloe a plate and cutlery. "Thank you, Anakin. This looks delicious."

Chloe relaxed and enjoyed the meal, entertained by the friendly banter slung between her two companions. Once almost everything had been consumed, she helped Obi-Wan clear away the empty packaging and plates. Anakin was busy finishing off an anecdote from their latest mission.

"And so, that was the fifth time I had to rescue Obi-Wan. If he'd just let me take on the bounty hunter at the start, we would have been fine, and I wouldn't have sprained my hand." He peered at his ungloved hand with a frown, flexing his fingers slowly.

"Possibly..." said Obi-Wan. "But the time resting will have done you good. Which reminds me. We have a booking for the training room at eight tomorrow."

"Excellent" replied Anakin, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. "I can't wait to spar with you again Master, it's been too long."

"Now," said Obi-Wan, heading back to the small kitchen. "Who's for tea?"

While Obi-Wan brewed the tea, Anakin chatted to Chloe about the research she'd been working on with his master.

"Anakin, can you tell Miss O'Brian a little about the background to the Onori problem?" Obi-Wan called from the kitchen.

"It's a bit of a mystery," said Anakin, crossing the room to a terminal unit on a small desk and flicking on the screen. "We retrieved this data chip from the Onori system last week." He picked up a small clear box from the desk and passed it to Chloe. She could just make out a tiny metallic chip mounted inside.

"It was inside a maintenance droid," he continued. "A maintenance droid that tried to kill us."

"Not that that itself is unusual," interrupted Obi-Wan, with a grimace, setting a teapot and three glass cups on the table. "But the technology is completely alien to the Onori system."

"We've reason to believe that the Separatists planted this chip, infecting the droid with a virus that enables them to control it." Anakin continued. "Unfortunately, we've no idea how many droids, and potentially, how many systems, are affected."

"A contact of mine identified the chip as originating from the Dakoda system," said Obi-Wan, "and we've managed to retrieve some data from it, but our encryption programs can't crack it."

Chloe finally realised their dilemma.

"And you can't get the tech droids to do it, " she interrupted, "because you can't rule out them being infected too."

Obi-Wan smiled and poured the tea. "Which is why I needed information on the Sensu algorithms, in the hope that Anakin use them to decipher the chip."

Anakin was frowning at the screen of the terminal, scrutinizing the document Chloe found earlier.

"It's going to take me a while to figure this out," he said, tapping on the keyboard to scroll through the pages, "I understand parts but there's so much of it, so much detail..."

"It's easy," Chloe replied, crossing to Anakin's side. "The algorithm is recursive. You just need to run a test program on the data you have and then encode the results into a binary matrix."

Anakin looked at her blankly.

"I can code the test in about five minutes," Chloe said, "but it will take several hours to run."

Anakin pulled the chair out for her. "Be my guest," he said, with a grin and a flourish of his arm, waiting for her to sit down before walking back to join Obi-Wan in the seating area.

Chloe was distantly aware of the start of their conversation, something about battle manoeuvres, was it, or tactical formations? Quickly she became absorbed in the task at hand. She work rapidly, her fingers moving efficiently over the keyboard.

After a few minutes the code was finished, and Chloe set the program running.

"All done," she said, getting up and moving back to the couch, taking the cup that Obi-Wan offered her. "It will probably need until morning to complete. Once we have the results, we'll know the details and I'll be able to design an antedote to the virus." Chloe sipped the tea. This time it was warm and fragrant with a pleasant and soothing aroma.

"Excellent," said Obi-Wan. "I'll request a meeting with the Council tomorrow, and formally recommend you to act as special advisor until this is resolved."

Chloe smiled. "Yes sir, General Kenobi, sir," she replied sleepily, thinking it was probably inappropriate to tease him like that, realising exactly how tired she was as she relaxed back onto the squashy cushions.

Chloe closed her eyes and let her mind drift as Anakin and Obi-Wan resumed their conversation. Their voices were pleasant, washing over her, as she drifted... She'd just rest here, just for a minute…


	4. Focus, Chloe, Focus

Thanks for the comments, they keep me going!

Oh and please note the M rating kicks in right here...

* * *

Hands caressed her. Rough fingers over smooth skin, curling under the back of her knee, sliding up the outside of her thigh, under her skirt, pushing the material higher. Indecently high. Stubble scratched her neck, words whispered against her ear as his thumb traced the hem of lace encircling her thigh.

"Tell me what you want."

Seated on the table, she spread her legs wider and tilted her hips to his touch: feather-light circles on damp silk. This was what she wanted, more of this, harder, deeper, yes, but this alone would not be enough. Wherever this was going would not be enough without...

"To kiss you, I need to kiss you." She turned her head towards him, but it was dark; she couldn't see his face and he evaded her, chuckling.

"Not yet. Not quite yet."

Deftly, he unbuttoned her shirt with one hand and pushed it off her shoulder, placing kisses along her collarbone, his hair falling forward, soft strands against her exposed, overheated skin.

"Perhaps, a little more like this…?" he murmured, slipping her underwear aside, one finger sliding, teasing, then penetrating. She gasped, bucking against him, but he held her still, one hand firm on her hip, teeth against her shoulder. His thumb traced exquisite circles and she moaned loudly, stars showering her vision.

"Lie back," he whispered, his fingers falling away from her body to ease her backwards on the study table. She obeyed, and his hands cradled her head to rest against the hard surface. Then, his attention returned to her thighs, swiftly shoving the skirt to bunch at her hips, sliding her panties over her hips.

Breathlessly, she anticipated his weight on her, his tongue in her mouth; but, agonisingly, he retreated, only air against her skin, the contact she ached for lost.

She raised her head, expecting to see a sly grin, but instead his eyes met hers with fierce, devoted intensity.

Holding her gaze, he hooked her leg over his shoulder, then half-turned his head to place a slow kiss at the top of her inner thigh. His breath lingered, caressing her for a moment, then, slowly, lowered his mouth again to the same place, teeth teasing, tongue swirling.

"Please…" She moaned, letting her head back down into the table with a bump, as his tongue, very slowly, began to trace higher. "Obi-Wan, please…"

_Obi-Wan?_

_OBI-WAN?_

Chloe work with a start, his name on her lips, disorientated by bright sunlight on her face and the thunderous pounding of her heart.

"Oh, Gods…" She wrapped her arms around her face and groaned.

A dream, just a dream. But it had been so vivid!

And Obi-Wan! Oh Obi-Wan!

Obi-Wan?

What had her subconscious been thinking?

Still lurching between dream-world and reality, Chloe sat up slowly, blinking through bleary vision.

What was that? Something strange.

Something smudgy and brown.

A brown robe hung on the door opposite.

Wait. Bright sunlight? And silence?

This was not her apartment.

A Jedi robe. Obi-Wan's robe.

So did that mean. Had she? Had they…?

Chloe lay back down so quickly she bounced on the mattress. She stared at the ceiling, taking a few deep breaths, trying to recall falling asleep, finally remembering Obi-Wan's couch, the soft cushions, the soothing tea, and then… nothing.

Slowly, she turned her head to the right. The pillow next to hers was pristine, the bed covers uncrumpled.

Biting her lip, she yanked back the bed covers.

Relief, tinged ever so slightly with disappointment, flooded her body. She was fully clothed. She'd fallen asleep on his couch. Nothing had happened.

Of course it hadn't. Obi-Wan was an honourable man.

He'd carried her to his bed. He'd taken off her boots. Chloe blushed at the idea, but smiled at the same time.

And so where in her poor, overwrought, twisted brain had that incredible dream come from? Okay, Obi-Wan was attractive, yes, in a sort of devlish, flirtatious way, but she'd hardly spent all day fantasising about him doing unmentionable things to her on the library office table.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of a small chrono on the bedside table.

Seven-thirty. That gave her exactly one hour to get back to her apartment, shower, change and get to the archives to start work on time.

Right. One step at a time. She took a couple of deep breaths then sat up again, taking in her surroundings.

The room, simply decorated in shades of cream and green, contained pleasant, rustic-looking furniture: a dresser, a closet and a bookshelf. Several green and leafy plants were lined up neatly on the windowsill.

In fact, everything was very neat and tidy, from the rows of old books on the bookshelf to the simple and crisp linen on the bed...

Obi-Wan's bed.

She was lying in Obi-Wan's bed…

And where was he? Sleeping on the couch in the living room? And, oh Gods no, had she really called out his name? Had he _heard_ her?

Trying to mentally block her imagination from embarrassing her further, Chloe flung back the cover and hopped quickly across the cool tiles to grab her boots from the rack in the corner.

A small datapad dropped onto the floor and she picked it up, turning it over to read the display.

_Slept well? Lavendirum tea is very relaxing, didn't want to wake you. Council meeting at 10, will be in touch this afternoon.__  
__- O.W.K._

So, she told herself, firmly, he must have popped in when she was fast asleep, long before the dream started. Yes, she breathed, it was fine. It was all absolutely fine. No need to panic.

Her hands shook as she smoothed down her skirt.

Still disorientated, Chloe deactivated the datapad and placed it on the dresser, then frowned slightly and picked it up again, looking for somewhere where it didn't look quite as messy. There wasn't anywhere so she put it down again with a shrug.

Catching sight of the chrono again she cursed, straightening the rest of her clothing and headed for the door.

In the living room, the data terminal caught her eye. She'd nearly forgotten about the decryption program.

Chloe paused at the terminal and tapped a few keys. It was still running, and would need a couple more hours to complete. Two more hours, to pull herself together, get that dream out of her head, and focus.

Focus, Chloe, focus.

She sighed. Then, with one last look around the room she activated the door panel, she stepped into the corridor and hurried in the direction of home.

* * *

"I have it right here, General. I put it aside for you earlier." Chloe turned to retrieve the old-fashioned bound volume of papers.

"Ah. Excellent," Obi-Wan said. "Certain books can only be properly appreciated in this form."

Chloe frowned at the spine of the volume as she handed it over. "The natural history of the fungal spores of the Sio system?"

"Yes, it's fascinating. You should read it."

"Hmm, something about freezing over and Mustafar comes to mind, but I can't quite remember what," she said, wincing at the same time; what was intended to be sarcasm seemed to come out of her mouth as downright rude. Damn nerves.

"By the way, your dispatches are all archived," she added quickly, looking down at her work, indicating one of the many piles of flimsiplast with a wave of her hand.

"Already? I'm impressed. They must have impeccable training at librarian school these days."

"I don't go to…" she stopped mid-sentence. "You know I don't." Chloe looked up to find his eyes locked on hers, and had to fight the memories of the scandalous behavious her dream-self had been getting up to with his dream-self that morning.

Across the room, Li-Sei was removing old notices from the office pinboard, and replacing then with new, neatly laminated versions. The intermittent sound of stapling punctuated the silence.

Obi-Wan smiled, blue eyes twinkling. For a long, uncomfortable moment Chloe wondered if he really did know. Even if he hadn't heard her, had he sensed her dream through the Force? How much of a person's thoughts could Jedi read anyway? _Did he know what she was thinking now?_

"Don't worry," Obi-Wan whispered, leaning closer.

Chloe very nearly whimpered out loud.

"The Council are meeting right now," he continued. "We should have a decision by the end of an hour. I'll send for you."

"Hmm," Chloe squeaked. Ah, yes. The Onori virus. Of course that's what she was concerned about. Her whole future career and intergalactic warefare and the future of democracy and everything. She nodded and smiled mutely, mentally stamping on herself.

"Is there anything I can help you with, General Kenobi?" Li-Sei called across, one hand placed seductively on her slanted hips. "Chloe is still learning the ropes."

Obi-Wan smiled. "No thank you, Sapphire, I have everything I need."

Sapphire? Chloe thought, distracted by the sudden need to bite back a giggle. Li-Sei's first name was _Sapphire?_

Obi-Wan bowed, then turned and winked at Chloe before leaving the room.

Chloe watched him go, then sighed and leant back in her chair.

She was still smiling as she turned to look at the wall-chrono, only to find the ice-blue glare of her office-mate.

"Daydreaming?"

"No," said Chloe sharply, turning back to her work.

The façade of civility was starting to crack. Earlier that morning Chloe had finally received her internship information pack from Jocasta Nu. The pack contained a list of duties for Chloe to perform, and also stated, very clearly, that Li-Sei was not Chloe's superior, but merely a co-worker. Someone had obviously forgotten to inform Li-Sei of that fact.

"You should smile more often," the other woman was saying. "You know you're quite pretty when you smile."

"Mmm-huh." Chloe typed a little more vigorously.

"Such a shame he took the celibacy vow, don't you think?"

Chloe swallowed, then looked around.

"He did?" Her throat was a little dry. "I thought he was supposed to be involved with some princess or something?"

"Lady Sabé Essara of Naboo." Li-Sei nodded. "There were rumours, a long time ago. But no, of course we Jedi are not allowed to marry. Eventually she married a gentleman from Alderaan. And now General Kenobi is strictly off limits, as it were. His own decision."

"You seem to know rather a lot about it."

Li-Sei's pale cheeks flushed a delicate pink. "Only as much as anyone else."

Ah, thought Chloe. I understand. So someone has a little crush…

_Like you don't_, replied a small voice in her head.

Of course she didn't! Just because she'd dreamt… well that didn't mean she had a crush on him. That meant he confused her. Desperately.

Besides, she wasn't looking for a relationship. She was incredibly bad at relationships. And there was very little chance someone like Obi-Wan Kenobi would be interested in having a relationship with her…

_Incorrect,_ the small, annoying voice interrupted. _There is precisely zero chance he would want to have a relationship with you. He's celibate. You're lucky he even speaks to you._

Shut up! Thought Chloe. I'm going mad!

Relax. She could cope with this. Yes, this afternoon she would be working for a well-respected, but celibate Jedi, who induced very strange behaviour in her, and with whom she'd had graphic, one-sided dream-sex.

But heck, she'd been in weirder situations than that.

Okay, she hadn't. But every new experience was an adventure, wasn't it? That's what her father had always said.

* * *

After the rollercoaster of the previous twelve hours, a whole day in the archives was soul-destroyingly tedious. The time passed incredibly slowly. By late afternoon, there was still no word from Obi-Wan.

Just when Chloe was beginning to wonder if everything about the Onori virus had been part of that terrifying, if (she was now beginning to admit) rather wonderful dream, Li-Sei entered the office, a frown creasing her pretty forehead.

"Chloe. I, err, well, actually, Master Windu has requested you leave early today and go to help General Kenobi on an urgent matter."

Chloe couldn't stop the broad smile that spread across her face at the prospect of escape, even if it was to spend the rest of the day trying to avoid eye-contact with Obi-Wan.

In seconds she had gathered her belongings together.

"Sapph... Li-Sei," Chloe said, nodding politely, if rather gleefully, before dashing for the door.

"In his quarters…" Li-Sei called after her, "for some reason you're to go to his quarters, I…"

Li-Sei's voice was cut off by the sound of the turbolift door closing. Chloe tapped her foot nervously, watching the levels count upon the monitor, wondering how she should raise the subject of how she ended up in Obi-Wan's bed last night. It would be odd not to mention it, wouldn't it?

Nervously, she exiting the lift and walked along the corridor.

Obi-Wan answered the door of his quarters with a frown, indicating her to enter with a wave of his hand.

Chloe's frivolous, jittery embarrassment was quenched instantly.

His expression was deadly serious.

Something was wrong.


	5. No Pressure Then

Thanks once again for the comments everyone, and sorry for the delay in updating! It's time for things to get a little more serious, but not quite in the way we might want, at least not yet! Happy Holidays everyone!

* * *

"What's wrong?" Chloe asked, as she stepped inside the room.

"I'm sorry about the delay," Obi-Wan said, ignoring her question as he led her across the room to the data terminal. "The Council insisted on going over your records in great detail, and there have been some other developments this afternoon."

But his voice faded into the background as she sat down. Chloe was already focusing on the screen, eagerly scanning the output from her program. It was an enormous relief, she thought, as she studied the sequences of numbers, this sudden knowledge that she had a job to do - a serious job, where silly personal embarrassments were irrelevant.

But, after several pages, her face fell. She'd never seen anything quite like this before.

Chloe realised Obi-Wan was still speaking. He'd just mentioned something about Anakin.

"…due to arrive at nineteen-thirty standard hours, that's in about three hours' time..." He stopped, noticing the expression on her face. "What's the problem?"

"It's, err, just slightly more complicated than I originally thought," Chloe said, as Obi-Wan bent down to look at the monitor over her shoulder, frown even more intense than before.

"How complicated? I thought you said it was easy."

"Writing the diagnostic is easy. The virus is clearly based on the Sensu algorithms, but there is an extra component here." She waved a hand at the screen. "An unknown component, in fact. I've never seen technology quite like this before."

"I thought you were supposed to be an expert?"

Chloe bit her lip. "I am, and I promise you if this had been documented I would know about it. But it hasn't."

Obi-Wan hissed something inaudible under his breath, then stood up and turned away from her. "Bottom line?"

Chloe took a deep breath. "Running alone, the algorithms from the document we found in the archives could take several days to find an antidote." Recalling something, she frowned. "What was that about three hours?"

Obi-Wan clasped his hands behind his back. "As I said, there have been some developments this afternoon. I'm afraid it has become even more critical that we find a way to disable this virus. There's been a crisis on the planet Tundi in the Lam system. Many civilians have been taken hostage. We received a coded distress signal this afternoon. They claim their own droids turned on them."

Chloe's heart sank. "The Separatists?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"What are their demands?"

"Nothing," he replied. "Or rather nothing _yet_. The droids have imprisoned the population in the palace of the capital city. It would appear they're waiting for further instructions. A clone strike platoon is on its way, but we want to avoid a battle with so many civilians vulnerable. "

"Then we must hope the Separatists take their time."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Unfortunately, the Council have agreed that Anakin can go ahead of the platoon and attempt a covert operation. Given your antidote and his own expertise with droids we hoped he would be able to avert the crisis single-handedly."

"But I thought the two of you always worked as a team?"

Obi-Wan paused and looked at her silently for a moment, appearing to be contemplating his reply. He sighed. "Anakin needs to prove himself worthy of taking the trials for knighthood, and because of his expertise with droids this seemed like the perfect opportunity."

He rubbed the sides of his forehead with one hand. "Without an antidote it's going to be close to impossible. But Anakin will want to go ahead anyway. "

"But can't you just order him not to?"

"I can order all I want, but Anakin is not exactly a fan of orders."

"Then perhaps you shouldn't have gambled every hope on finding an antidote." Chloe found the words were out of her mouth before she'd had time to decide they were a bad idea.

"And perhaps you could have given us a better indication that it _would_ be a gamble," Obi-Wan bit back.

He remained silent for a few seconds, then looked up at her, lowering his voice. "No, I'm sorry, it's not your fault. The decision was made without you. It's just we… I need this to work."

Chloe detected fatigue and a hint of desperation in Obi-Wan's voice, and his frown slipped, his expression softening to something more vulnerable. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps his relationship with Anakin was not quite as easy as their banter the previous evening had led her to believe.

Then the mask fell back in place. Obi-Wan looked away, uncomfortably, leaving Chloe with the impression he had let slip more than he intended.

"I'm sure I'll be able to think of something," she said quickly, searching her memory for any scraps of related knowledge.

"Good," Obi-Wan replied, abruptly. He crossed the room to the door, datapad in hand. "I'll be in the meditation room at the end of the hall for a short time, then I'll be prepping the clones from the War Room. Com me when you've finished, there's a unit on the desk."

"Sure. And I-"

Obi-Wan didn't look back. "You have exactly two hours fifty-three minutes."

The door slid swiftly shut behind him.

Chloe turned to tap at the keyboard, biting her lip.

Right. No pressure then.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Chloe hadn't made much progress. She stared at the screen glumly as her final desperate attempt at a decryption program spewed out yet more nonsensical data.

Then, suddenly, a pattern started to emerge from the chaos. Chloe cursed and smacked the desk. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of that before? In fact it was a quite elegantly beautiful piece of mathematics. Simplicity itself. And in Chloe's line of work, simplicity was often elusive. Her fingers few over the keyboard as she wrote a new program, making educated guesses her and there. Whoever had coded this virus was not only knowledgeable, but also possessed a great flair for the subject. And, Chloe thought, as she crossed the fingers of one hand, using the other to hit the enter key, an unfortunate desire to use their talent for the worst possible cause.

She sat back in her chair, watching the program run. _Come on, damn you…_

A smile spread slowly across Chloe's face as the output gradually changed from random characters to recognisable schematic diagrams. It had worked!

But her task was not yet complete. Chloe glanced at the chrono by the desk. _19:02_. Just under thirty minutes to code up the antidote. It was do-able. She rubbed the weary muscles in the back of her neck with one hand.

Just then, the door of the room opened with a low hiss and a visibly more relaxed Obi-Wan stepped inside.

"Any progress?" He said softly, placing one hand on her shoulder and standing behind her to look at the screen.

"Yes," Chloe replied, relieved his earlier irritation seemed to have dissipated, but hyperaware of the simple pressure from his hand. "The antidote should be ready by the time Anakin arrives."

Her voice wavered a little at the end of the sentence as his fingers flexed, sending a gentle pulse of something warm through her sore muscles. Chloe swallowed nervously, and looked up at him.

Obi-Wan caught her expression and his eyes widened very slightly. He snatched his hand away, as if he hadn't even realised he was touching her.

"Good." He said, a little too sternly, stepping away, a little too quickly. "Because we need to go to the War Room immediately to oversee the operation with Master Windu. "You'll be able to finish this in there."

Chloe nodded, tapping at the keyboard to transfer everything to a portable data unit and snatching it out of the terminal as she stood up, avoiding eye contact, relieved that the moment had passed. "Lead the way."

A few minutes later, the turbolift glided smoothly to a halt four levels above Obi-Wan's quarters. The doors opened to reveal the dimly-lit interior of the Jedi War Room.  
Chloe followed Obi-Wan inside, intimidated but at the same time intrigued by the quiet but efficient atmosphere. Numerous Jedi and padawans she didn't recognise worked intently at terminal screens located around the periphery of the room.

"Master Kenobi," A Jedi she recognised as Mace Windu walked over from the large central holotable to greet them.

"Master Windu," Obi-Wan gave a curt bow of his head and stepped aside. "This is Miss O'Brian."

Chloe shook hands with the senior Jedi, smiling nervously, trying to look professional.

"Please come and take a seat," Mace said, "Padawan Skywalker is nearing the Lam system, we have much to do."

* * *

Ten minutes later, from her place at the circular holotable, Chloe watched as the small blue dot representing Anakin's star fighter made steady progress towards the planet Tundi.

"Miss O'Brian, do you have the antidote program?" Mace Windu asked from his position seated to her right.

"Yes Master Windu," Chloe responded, with a final tap at the keyboard in front of her. "It's ready for transmission."

"Master Kenobi," continued Mace, "are you ready to start the briefing?"

Obi-Wan finished his conversation with a female Twi'lek Jedi and took his position at the opposite side of the table. Quietly, and without prompting, the dozen or so occupants of the room gathered around the table, folders and sheets of flimsiplast in their hands.

Obi-Wan reached forward and pressed a button embedded in the surface of the table.

"Padawan Skywalker, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you read me?"

A grainy blue image of the younger man flickered to life in front of them.

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied, with a grin, "Nice to see you again. I'm in position."

Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgement and glanced to Mace, who nodded back. "Please proceed, Master Kenobi."

"As you all know," Obi-Wan began, "the citizens of the planet Tundi have been taken hostage by their own droids, which we believe have been infected with an override virus developed from the Sensu spy droid algorithms." Obi-Wan pressed another button and a larger-scale hologram of the planet rose into view.

"Around one hundred civilians, consisting mainly of miners and their families, are being held prisoner in the ancient palace, located here," said Obi-Wan, indicating the position with his finger.

"Our suspicion that this is the work of the Separatists was confirmed a few minutes ago when we received this transmission showing the hostages." Obi-Wan pressed another button. Chloe watched intently as another image appeared above the table. She'd been aware of a flutter of activity at the other side of the room a couple of minutes before. This must have been the cause.

The image showed a large cave, or possibly a hall. The view zoomed to its centre and Chloe saw people – men, women, children, huddled together in family groups. Even though the image quality is poor she could see they were clearly terrified.

"Those poor people…" Chloe whispered, under her breath, glancing up to gauge the reactions of the Jedi stood around the table. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they all appeared to be taking in this information impassively. Chloe's gaze met Obi-Wan's, and his expression softened a little.

Then he returned his focus to the holotable, pressing yet another button. A three-dimensional map of a planetary system flickered into view.

"The message accompanying the images demanded our forces hold off and allow the Separatists to take control of the nearby planet of Lam Barell," Obi-Wan continued. "This is not surprising, since its mines contain minerals vital to the Separatists' droid-making process. Once the Separatists have finished their operation on Lam Barell, they claim the hostages on Lam Tundi will be released unharmed as refugees. Any intervention from us before then, and they will all be killed."

Chloe swallowed. This was really serious now.

"Fortunately," Obi-Wan continued, "it seems the Separatists are unaware of the earlier distress signal we received from Lam Tundi, so Anakin and the clone strike platoon have managed to enter the system unseen. They are currently hidden from view here." He indicateed an asteroid belt on the map near to the planet Tundi.

"Our systems report Separatist forces began arriving at the unpopulated Lam Barell around twenty minutes ago. Intelligence indicates they are most likely to keep the hostages for several days while completing the mineral extraction. "

Obi-Wan paused and looked down, then continued in a softer tone. "Based on previous experience, it is unlikely that they will keep to their promise and release the hostages unharmed when they have taken what they want."

Knowing glances were exchanged around the table. Mace Windu nodded slowly. After a short pause, Obi-Wan pressed a few buttons until Anakin's image came into view again. "Jedi Skywalker has formulated a plan for a covert operation to enter the palace." Obi-Wan sat down. "Go ahead Anakin."

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," said Anakin. "With Miss O'Brian's antidote it will be possible to neutralise the virus in the rogue droids located in the palace and save the civilians, as long as we can get inside without attracting any attention." He paused before continuing. "I suggest I go in alone to minimise the chance of being seen."

"Hmm…" Mace said, fingertips held together in contemplation. "Master Kenobi, do we have sufficient forces to avert any retaliation from the Separatists when they find out what has happened?"

"Yes," said Obi-Wan. "The Separatist forces are currently much diminished. Our clone battalion is in slow orbit of the system and could outnumber them easily. I assume this is the reason why the Separatists are resorting to such tactics."

"And your Plan B, Jedi Skywalker?" Asked Mace.

"The strike team will stay on standby here, where they have the least chance of being detected." Anakin responded, an arrogant edge to his voice. "I am confident no back-up will be needed. Sir." Chloe noticed Obi-Wan flinch.

"And if you fail, _Padawan_ Skywalker, you will be risking the lives of those innocent people," Mace replied, ennunciating each word as if Anakin was not capable of working this out for himself. "Master Kenobi?"

"With all due respect, Master, Anakin is right," Obi-Wan replied. "We have no idea of the nature of the surveillance systems located within the palace. It may take all of Anakin's skill to go in unnoticed. A solo operation is our best chance of success."

"Very well, Skywalker," Mace said. "You may proceed with your plan. Continue with the landing on Tundi. We will speak again when you are within sight of the palace."

"Yes Master. Over and out." Anakin's holo image flickered then disappeared. The room remained silent for a few moments.

"Commander Cody." Mace spoke again. "Stand by to follow Commander Skywalker for landing on Tundi in thirty minutes. General Kenobi will brief you shortly."

A holo of an armoured clone trooper flickered into view. "Yes sir." The trooper responded.

Obi-Wan was obviously surprised. "Master…?"

"I'm sorry, Master Kenobi, but I just cannot risk those people's lives on Anakin's over-confidence," said Mace, with a frown. "He will have his chance to succeed, but the strike force must be nearby in case he does not."

"I…" Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something more but changed his mind. He conceded to Mace with a nod, lips pressed together in a thin line. Mace turned to Chloe as he got up to leave.

"Miss O'Brian, please study the details of the palace and droid control system loaded into your terminal. When Jedi Skywalker has landed we will need to go through the finer details of the rescue operation."

"Yes sir," she replied, flipping up her terminal screen.

Both the lives of those innocent civilians and Anakin's reputation hinged on the success of this operation. Chloe concentrated on breathing slowly, trying to blank the extreme pressure of the situation out of her mind.

She glanced up at Obi-Wan, his brow creased by yet another frown as he engaged in discussion with the holo of the clone trooper. How much older he looked, she thought, like this. Her ridiculous dream; their small, insignificant interchanges over the past couple of days: both seemed a lifetime away in the seriousness of this moment.

Looking down at her trembling hands, Chloe placed her palms flat on the table in an attempt to still them.

She thought she'd aged about ten years in just the last hour.


	6. The Mission

"Master, I have the palace in sight." Anakin's image spoke from the holotable.

"Anakin, Miss O'Brian will brief you on how to administer the antidote." Obi-Wan nodded towards her.

Chloe took a deep breath. "Anakin," she began, "on your system you should have the schematic plans of the palace showing the large central hall in which we believe the hostages are being held. Directly below the hall is the droid control centre. This is where you'll need to go to deliver the antidote."

"I see it," Anakin said, looking down.

"I'm sending you the antidote package now." Chloe tapped a few keys. "Download it to a portable data key."

Anakin nodded.

"Once you're in the control room you'll need to run the diagnostic test first to check for any adverse reactions. You'll then need to configure the antidote with the list of droid ID's on the palace system."

"Wait," Anakin interrupted, "is the diagnostic necessary? Why not just go straight for the antidote?"

"Unless you want to risk killing yourself and everyone else in there that would be a really bad idea," Chloe said. "It's protocol with this complexity of operation to carry out a test first. If there are problems you have a chance to make adjustments. Go for all of them at once and you could be dead before the antidote has had time to take effect."

"And that time is?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Two minutes, " Chloe replied. "According to my tests, two minutes at the very most."

"And where's my way in?" Anakin frowned at his map.

"Unfortunately, the building is very secure," Obi-Wan said. "Other than the two main entrances, all of which are likely to be guarded, there is only one possible access route."

"The service tunnel," Anakin replied quickly.

"That's right," Obi-Wan said. "As you can see, the entrance to the tunnel is by a small lake at the far side of the palace. The tunnel will take you into the kitchen areas on the lower floor. You'll need to pass right around the corridor at one side of the central hall in order to reach the passage down to the control centre."

"Got it." There was a rustle as Anakin began to arrange his equipment. "It should take me less than ten minutes to get to the lake."

"Be careful Anakin," Obi-Wan cautioned. "There is no need to rush."

"Yes, Master." Anakin grinned, surprisingly relaxed, given the circumstances. "Switching to portable com."

The holoimage jerked then shifted to show Anakin's view. In front, an area of cleared ground was terminated by a wall of dense forest. The tops of the trees sloped up gradually ahead, with the tall spires of what must have been the palace just visible in the distance.

Anakin started to move into the undergrowth. Chloe followed his progress for a while, before turning her attention to her terminal, wanting to double check everything before he arrived at the palace.

As she sat chewing her nails, wondering if she should triple check her code, just to be absolutely sure, she realised Obi-Wan was standing by her side.

"Everything okay?" His tone voice had softened from the military tone she was starting to become used to.

"Yes. Fine." Chloe instinctively tried to cover her nervousness.

Seemingly unsatisfied, Obi-Wan sat down on the empty chair next to her. He placed one hand on hers. "We _will_ save those people," he said, quietly, fixing her with calming ocean-green eyes. "And don't worry about Anakin, he can take care of himself." He squeezed her hand a little. Chloe nodded, comforted he knew her anxieties.

"Be confident in your ability," Obi-Wan added. "Everyone else is." His expression was serious.

Chloe believed him.

Obi-Wan stood up again. "That is, unless… you did eat lunch, didn't you?" His lips curved mischievously and Chloe smiled. Suddenly, breathing was a little easier. Obi-Wan held her gaze for a few moments longer before making his way back to the other side of the table.

Chloe watched him sit down, having to remind herself this treatment was nothing special. Obi-Wan – General Kenobi was just doing his job.

Then she noticed Mace Windu had returned to the room, and was also taking his seat.

"Master Kenobi, do you have the strike platoon ready?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, frown returning, "They've taken tactical positions near each of the entrances and are standing by." He pressed another button on the table to re-open the audio com channel with Anakin.

"Anakin, you're back on com with the War Room," Obi-Wan said. "Is that the tunnel entrance up ahead?"

Chloe studied the holo from Anakin's portable camera. He turned, showing the lake to his right. Then the image panned back, showing vegetation surrounding the circular entrance to a large pipe. Large, and yet, it looked too small for Anakin to walk along. He'd have to crawl.

"I'm going in," Anakin said.

Chloe sat, holding her breath with the tension as Anakin made slow but steady progress along the tunnel. Over the com she could hear the sound of water dripping into water, echoing in the hollow space.

"Nice route you found me." Anakin sounded like he was trying not to gag.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Perhaps sending you alone _was_ a good idea."

"Don't worry, I'll bring you my laundry when I get back."

Eventually, after about five minutes of crawling, Anakin stopped. The camera jerked a and Anakin's face appeared as he wiped some dark drips of liquid off the lens. He grinned.

"Nearly there," he whispered, glancing towards the end of the tunnel. "I'll speak to you again when I'm in the control centre."

Chloe nodded instinctively, even though he could not see her. The camera jerked again as he replaced it. Chloe sat up, checking her terminal screen once again. Obi-Wan was standing, hands resting on the table. Mace sat back his chair, fingers of both hands placed together.

Once he was out of the tunnel, Anakin moved very quickly and it was difficult to see exactly what was happening. Obi-Wan traced his route on the map palace map. "He's making his way around the central hall," he said, looking up at Mace.

A few minutes later, a metallic clank and a couple of beeps were quickly followed by a blister of sparks across the holoimage, then the rapid flash of Anakin's lightsaber. The camera jerked before becoming still.

"I'm in," Anakin said calmly, powering off his saber. "No problems, just one droid got in the way. I can see the control terminal."

The camera turned to show a set of control screens together with various buttons and levers.

Right, this is it, Chloe thought, trying to breathe evenly, standing up so she had a better view. "Anakin," she began, "connect your data key to the central maintenance panel. The diagnostic test should load automatically."

Anakin followed her instructions.

"Check the display on the data key," Chloe continued. "Once the diagnostic has cleared you should see a green light flashing. When the light stops you can enter the droid codes from the display panel in front of you and upload the antidote."

"Copy that," Anakin said.

Chloe couldn't make out the detail of the display in the holo. "What can you see?" She drummed her fingers on the table.

"Nothing," Anakin said. "Wait… A light is coming on."

Chloe still couldn't make anything out.

"It's not… no it's not green. Sixty…it's numbers. A count down – it's a count down." Anakin's voice rose a little. "Fifty-six, Fifty-five… Any ideas?"

But Chloe didn't panic. For once, she found herself extremely calm. Her mind was ready, clear, alert, and very quickly she remembered – she'd seen this before. Tapping her keyboard, she scrolled efficiently through pages of text.

"Thirty-seven, thirty-six…" Anakin continued to count down.

Got it! Chloe thought it looked familiar. Wait… that meant…

"Anakin," Chloe spoke as quickly as she could without rushing, "it's a warning that an anti-tamper alarm has been tripped in the system. What you're seeing is a countdown to a distress signal. When the time runs out a radio signal will alert all droids under the influence of the virus that they are under attack. The antidote will still work but you need set up an interference signal so the distress call can't be detected before the antidote is fully uploaded."

"Copy that," Anakin responded. "I can set up the interference signal using a back channel on the control terminal."

Chloe smiled. He was a natural.

"Once you have the interference signal set up configure the antidote and run it. When the data key flashes blue you can shut off the interference signal and the antidote should take effect in less than a second."

"I understand," Anakin said. "So I guess this is goodbye."

"Yes. Good luck."

A few moments later the holo of the control room flickered, then disappeared.

"Anakin? Anakin, do you read me?" Obi-Wan fiddled with the controls in front of him.

"He can't hear you," Chloe said, watching the count down she'd set up to match Anakin's. She looked up. "While the interference signal is operational all communications will be blocked. We just have to wait."

* * *

"How long has it been?" Mace Windu asked, restlessly tapping his long fingers together.

Chloe checked her screen. "One minute thirty-two seconds."

"And the antidote should be ready after two minutes?"

"So long as he's configured it correctly." Chloe glanced across to Obi-Wan for reassurance, but he didn't look up. One hand cupping his face, he was focusing intently on the empty space where Anakin's holo had been.

"Master Kenobi," Mace's voice was raised to get Obi-Wan's attention. "Are the strike team ready to go in?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said quietly, finally looking up. "They are in covert positions near the four entrances to the palace and are waiting for my command."

Obi-Wan tapped a key on the table. Four holos appeared, each showing a similar image: A view, partially obscured through overhanging vegetation, towards large wooden gates set in a stone wall.

"One minute fifty-seven," Chloe counted out loud, "fifty-nine, two minutes." She looked up at the holotable.

Nothing.

"Commander Cody, stand by," Obi-Wan ordered.

"Copy that," came the reply.

Still nothing.

"Two minutes ten seconds," Chloe reported.

"Master Kenobi…" Mace's hand gripped the arm of his chair tightly. "They need to go in _now_."

"Just a few more seconds, give him chance." Obi-Wan's jaw clenched, his gaze focused intently on the table.

"Two minutes thirty seconds," Chloe's voice wavered as she sat down. Her legs felt weak. Dread started to grow in the pit of her stomach. The antidote should definitely be working by now. Where was he?

"Master Kenobi…" Mace stood up.

Obi-Wan ignored him.

"Commander Cody, this is Mace Windu. You are cleared to go."

The clone commander's com crackled. "I err…"

"Go!" Mace bellowed.

"All teams, cleared to go, repeat, cleared to go," Cody shouted. The holos on the table jerked and flickered as the cameras started to move, then a loud extracted explosion sounding as the gates were blown. The view was obscured by smoke. Chloe could hear shouting, followed by a few shots.

_Where are you Anakin? Where are you?_ She scanned the broken images frantically.

Suddenly there was more shouting, scuffling…

And then a scream.

"Hold your fire!" the muffled voice of the clone trooper commanded. "All troopers, hold your fire!"

A moment later the holos above the table flickered and Anakin's channel reappeared. The image coalesced into the body of a clone trooper, pinned under a booted foot, a bright lightsaber blade held to his throat.

"Anakin!" Chloe and Obi-Wan spoke at the same time.

"Master."

Chloe grinned at the sound of Anakin's voice.

The boot lifted and, with a groan, the clone trooper sat up, holding onto his leg.

"Just a scratch, " Anakin said, "although it was very nearly much worse. And you have some explaining to do."

The camera panned and Chloe recognised the palace hall again. A ring of assorted droids, all motionless, surrounded the circular room, interspersed at regular intervals by stubby towers of neatly-stacked crates.

"Mining demolition charges," Anakin explained. "One direct hit from a blaster and the whole palace would have gone up."

Chloe swallowed, chilled by fear for what could have happened. Obi-Wan groaned quietly, rubbing his forehead with the fingers of one hand. "And the hostages?" he said, looking up.

"Unharmed," Anakin replied. "The antidote deactivated the droids just moments before the strike team entered." The camera panned again to show the civilians, still huddled together in the centre of the room, looking even more terrified than before. Somewhere a baby started to cry.

"Commander Cody, any casualties?" Mace asked.

"Just the one, sir. He'll be fine."

"Good," Mace replied. "General Kenobi will debrief you. Now, with the crisis averted please excuse me, I have urgent business to attend to. Miss O'Brian." He nodded to Chloe and then swept out of the room.

Chloe watched the door close behind him, then leant back in her chair, finally allowing the relief to wash over her. Mace Windu's attitude had been a bit of a shock; he was far more aggressive than she had expected. But she was too distracted to think properly now. To one side, Obi-Wan was conversing quietly with the female Twi'lek.

"Master, are you going to tell me now why you didn't trust me?" Anakin's voice burst over the com. He was obviously trying to remain calm, but his anger was palpable, even across the ether. His holo camera image swept left and right as he went around the hall, checking on the civilians.

"I think we should leave that until you get back to the temple, Anakin."

"Was it Master Windu's idea, or yours?" Anakin ignored the warning in Obi-Wan's voice. "Or did you decide together to go behind my back?"

"As I said, _Padawan_, we will debrief you fully on your return, both informally and before the Council." Obi-Wan's tone was light but his was expression deadly serious.

"I… of course. Yes _Master_." Anakin stressed the title with a grumpy sneer, bordering on openly disrespectful. "I'll finish up here. See you tomorrow."

The com channel went dead.

Obi-Wan sighed, pressing a sequence of buttons on the table. Gradually, all the holos flickered and then disappeared.

Chloe turned her attention back to her screen and started shutting her programs down. As she finished, Obi-Wan strode over to her.

"Congratulations," he said, with a genuine smile. "A very successful first operation."

He held out his hand, and Chloe took it cautiously. His handshake was firm and warm, and she felt comforted by it, as she had when he'd touched her earlier. She let go reluctantly.

Obi-Wan nodded back, then turned to leave.

Chloe swivelled her chair back to the table, tapping the surface with her fingers as she glanced around. The room was silent; it had emptied without her noticing. These Jedi were just a little too efficient for her liking. She stood up and pressed the few button to power down her terminal, suddenly aware of the adrenaline buzzing through her body; the echo of a quite unbelievable day.

She felt empty, exhausted yet alert, jittery to the point of giddiness. She couldn't imagine how she would fall asleep tonight.

And, she found, to her surprise, she couldn't bear the thought that Obi-Wan was about to walk out of the room and leave her there alone.

But he was about to do just that.

"Wait…" she found herself calling after him, without any idea of what she would say next.

Obi-Wan paused and turned back to face her.

Chloe smiled nervously. "You're not telling me that's it? After all that you just go off to meditate or something?"

He considered her question seriously. "Often, yes. After all, I have to get up tomorrow and face Anakin."

"So that means occasionally, you do something else?" Chloe quite liked the flirtatious woman who seemed to be possessing her body.

"Why, what did you have in mind?" Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, taking a few steps back towards her, a slight swagger to his walk. In fact it was more _stalk_ than _walk_.

Thinking this was about to be both the bravest, and quite possibly the stupidest thing she'd done all day, Chloe waved her hand vaguely in the air. "I don't know, I thought it might be good to get out of here and celebrate. Perhaps. If, you know… you want. To." Her hand ended up on her hip, and she fumbled her fingers round to her back, playing with the hem of her shirt, letting a lock of hair fall over her face, seductively.

SEDUCTIVELY?

What was she _doing_?

"Ah, I see, " Obi-Wan said. He turned back and headed for the door again. Chloe watched him go.

With every step her wretched, pathetic, exhausted heart sank closer to her boots.

Obi-Wan paused at the door, half-turning his head back towards her. The white of his teeth reflected the light as he smiled. "Well?" he glanced over his shoulder. "Are you coming, or not?"

Whistling, he disappeared into the corridor.

Chloe grinned, then hurried after him.


	7. The Bar

"I'd never have thought _this_ would be the type of place frequented by Jedi." Chloe glanced back to her companion as they wound their way through the crowd. The cantina was packed with with humans and non-humans of various species, either drinking at the shabby neon-lit bar, dancing on the tiny dance floor or just lurking in shadowy corners.

"Exactly." Obi-Wan grinned, indicating an empty table across the room, then neatly steering her around the trailing tentacles of a slimy, grey being of indeterminate origin. Chloe wrinkled her nose, inhaling the dank, overheated air. She flopped down on the seat with a relieved sigh. Obi-Wan slid in opposite.

"Only ten minutes from Temple Plaza and it could easily be another world," he said quietly, indicating something to a passing waitress with a wave of his hand. "My Master taught me a certain appreciation of life beyond the temple. Although at the time I'm not sure I really approved." His gaze rested somewhere behind and to the side of Chloe's head.

"Of drinking in dodgy bars?" She turned to take in the scene with a frown. A raucous cheer erupted as two scantily-clad Twi'leks climbed up onto the bar. The music changed to a loud, throbbing beat and the girls started to dance.

"Something like that," Obi-Wan had to raise his voice to be heard over the music as it reached a crescendo. "Ah. Thank you". He tossed the waitress a few credits as she deposited two large glasses of liquid on their table, one glowing bright blue, one a murky shade of orange.

Chloe looked at him doubtfully.

"I thought you said you wanted to celebrate?" One eyebrow quirked in mock indignation. He tapped the glass containing the orange drink. "Nemoidian ale." Then tapped the other one. "And Farlian Dead Man's Cocktail. This one," he pushed the glass of blue liquid toward her slightly, "is a particular favourite of mine."

Chloe wrinkled her nose. "They're both alcoholic?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. There's not much you can order in here that isn't. Although I can ask, if you like.."

He was teasing her. Probably. "No," she said.

Considering the evidence, she studied his face. Eyebrows raised slightly as he waited for her to speak. Eyes innocent. Skin flushed a little, perhaps, but consistent with the heat and humidity in here. Lips. Nice lips, kissable lips _-stop it, Chloe_. Lips, ordinary lips, relaxed, and then twitching, just once.

Chloe smiled, bravely, graciously, but with a hint of sarcasm. "There's no need. If you recommend this, then I'm sure it will be wonderful."

Holding his gaze, she reached for the orange brew and took a confident gulp. It was bland. Barely sweet. Triumphant, she swallowed.

The liquid fizzed suspiciously as it slid down her throat. A second later bitterness exploded in her mouth, quickly followed by fire. Hot, peppery fire. Chloe coughed involuntarily, grabbing the table for support. Obi-Wan disappeared in a blur as her eyes watered, then her head was spinning, and she needed water, to rid her of this horrible taste, and this heat…

And then, in the next breath, when she couldn't stand it any more… there was nothing.

The taste had vanished. The heat had gone.

Nothing was left but a warming sensation, a glow spreading from her mouth to her throat. And it didn't stop there, but propagated, in waves, right down her body; arms, hands, tingling, soothing, every nerve, every sore muscle, in her knees, her calves, tickling lightly on the soles of her feet.

Nonsensically happy, she slumped back in her seat. It was, she had to admit, quite pleasant. _Sensually_ pleasant.

"So," Obi-Wan said, in a low voice, his image still fuzzy through her drink-induced tears. "How was it for you?"

Chloe rested her head back against the wall of the booth, closed her eyes, and laughed. There was really no other possible response. And she didn't care what he thought of her, in that moment; the laughter felt good. The water spilled from her eyes, hot on her cheeks as she laughed some more, sighed, then wiped her face with the back of her hands. She felt herself relaxing, the tension of the past couple of hours finally beginning to drain from her body.

From across the table, Obi-Wan's deep chuckle reminded her that he was still there.

She peeped at him, only half opening her eyes, trying to ignore the sting that accompanied the notion he might be laughing at her, not with her.

But his gentle smile reassured her it was the latter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have warned you. It's quite, err, strong. A sip is preferable to a mouthful. Much easier to handle."

She closed her eyes again, drifting on the brief alcoholic buzz that was, apparently, another effect of the ale.

"Has anyone ever told you you're despicable, General Kenobi?" It was far easier to speak to him like this, when she couldn't see him…

"No, I don't believe they have."

"Hmm...well, after today I think I'm beginning to understand why you might need a drink like that. So I won't call you despicable either, at least not yet."

"How charming. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She opened her eyes and smiled at him lazily.

He inclined his head, the shadow of a bow, lips tweaking simultaneously upwards, then leant back himself, stretching one arm along the top of the seat.

Suddenly brave, she allowed herself to study his face again, quite blatantly, hoping for an answer, or at least a clue to resolving the myriad of uncertainties currently swirling in her own mind. But after a few seconds, he looked away, seeming uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

They sat in silence for little while. As the alcohol wore off, Chloe fiddled with her glass, drawing patterns in the condensation.

"Did you find the mission supervision stressful?" Obi-Wan said, eventually.

She shrugged. "I suppose I'm not quite used to that kind of pressure. And there was enough tension in the room to make-" She stopped herself.

"Go on." Obi-Wan leant forward.

"Perhaps I shouldn't."

"We're not on duty now. Please speak freely. Your insight could prove useful. And I'm not easily shocked."

Really? Thought Chloe. _You might be surprised…_

"Well," she began, hesitantly, searching his face. His tone had been light, but Obi-Wan's expression was serious. This was likely to be a sensitive topic. She must try not to be flippant. "I-I was surprised by how Master Windu treated Anakin."

Obi-Wan looked down, twisting the glass in his hand. "The Council do not trust Anakin. But they never give him a chance to be trusted."

"And you do. You trust him."

"Yes."

"Even when he pushes every single boundary you set?"

Obi-Wan sighed, and raised his head. "Anakin is incredibly gifted. It is an honour to train him. But yes, he pushes, and he pulls and he fights every restriction placed upon him." He paused. "And you minor in psychology, perhaps?"

Chloe laughed, shaking her head, "Not at all. It's just that I behaved quite similarly, as a teenager, younger than Anakin. I remember vigorously fighting my father's attempts to discipline me. It was almost as if the fight mattered more than the victory. Or lack of it."

Immediately she wished she hadn't mentioned her father, not wanting the memories to come back, not now.

"And you grew out of it? Dear stars, please tell me you grew out of it."

His humorous tone washed over her. Chloe took a slow sip of her drink, not knowing what to say.

Obi-Wan was waiting, patiently, for her to speak.

"No, I didn't grow out of it, at least, not exactly." Chloe focused back on her glass, ignoring the bitterness in her mouth (easier to handle as a sip), relishing the burn in her throat, and the warmth that followed. "I- my father was a professor at the Academy. He specialised in humanoid genetics." She spoke quickly; it was a well-worn speech. "He was always travelling - meetings, conferences. When I was fifteen he took a sabbatical to the Rothana system. It's very remote, frontier territory, almost wild space, you probably don't know it?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No."

"Many of his colleagues did not approve of the visit, since the Rothanians were, amongst other things, rumoured to be using cloning practises outlawed by the Republic. But my father insisted it would be beneficial for him to meet with them, and that the risks had been exaggerated for political reasons." Her throat was dry. She took another sip of her drink before continuing, deliberately not meeting Obi-Wan's eyes. "A week before the visit was scheduled to end, the Rothanians accused him of spying for the Republic. In two days he was tried, found guilty, and executed."

Chloe glanced up, apprehensively, to gauge Obi-Wan's reaction. Much as it was well-meant, sympathy always upset her more than indifference.

But he looked indignant. "And the Republic did nothing to help him?"

"No. I mean, they couldn't. No one knew what was happening until it was too late. We heard nothing until we were sent a recording of the trial."

"And did you see…?"

"The execution?" She shook her head. "No. Just a recorded message informing us when it had been carried out. They sent his personal effects back. His notebooks, and a… confession, forced, we must assume, written in his own hand. We received them the day he was supposed to arrive back."

Obi-Wan regarded her gravely. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"Do you miss him?"

"Excuse me?"

His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, that was a terribly rude question. I didn't mean to pry. I don't know where that came from."

Chloe hesitated, then shook her head. "No, it's okay. Yes, I do, even ten years later. Although, you know what? More than anything else I'm still angry at him for abandoning me." She laughed, noticing how close their hands were on the table, hers curled loosely around her glass, his lying just an inch or so to the side. "Very selfish, I know, and, I supposed, as a Jedi, that would make absolutely no sense to you at all."

His calm eyes rested on her, comforting, soothing the prickles of sadness the memories had invoked. "No," he said, quietly, his fingers brushing hers. "I understand. Really, I do." He held her gaze, and the contact for a long moment before breaking away from both.

She expected him to say something else, explain what he meant, why he understood.

"Can I get you another?"

"Hmm?" Chloe felt a little light-headed, and more confused than ever.

He reached for her nearly-empty glass. "Another drink?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you. Sorry."

"Don't apologise," he said, looking down, his expression thoughtful. "And I… I don't wish to make light of what you've just told me, but…" his eyes swept the room before finally fixing on her. "Perhaps we should try to concentrate on more optimistic topics of conversation for the remainder of the evening?"

Chloe smiled. "Ah, yes. Good idea."

"You did say you wanted to celebrate, after all."

"In that case, can we order something a little less like paint solvent? I'll pay if, you like."

"Are you implying I don't know how to entertain a lady?"

Chloe shrugged, resisting the temptation to burst out laughing for the second time that evening. "Who knows?" she said. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Well then," Obi-Wan said, leaning forward, chin propped on his hand, eyes sparkling playfully. "I'll consider that a challenge."

Chloe mirrored the action and raised an eyebrow, hoping he didn't notice the flush rising in her cheeks. "Please do."

* * *

An hour or so, most of a bottle of Necr'ygor Omic vintage wine and a long and admittedly, in places, flirtatious conversation later, Chloe was much more relaxed. Obi-Wan was surprisingly easy to talk to and his dry sense of humour had her giggling more than once. And she was not one for giggling, as a rule.

Chloe struggled to contain her mouthful of wine, holding her hand over her mouth while she looked away and swallowed.

"Well, I didn't think it was very funny." This time his smile was charming.

"Of course it wasn't funny. Pondweed all over your carpet? I'm surprised you ever forgave him." Obi-Wan's apartment was far too neat, it was almost disturbing… "Ah, which remindsme," she hesitated, noticing her words were slurring a little. "I've not apologised for fallingasleep in your quarters last night. Y'know, you could'vejust woken me and thrown me out. I wouldn't've minded."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. You were sleeping far too peacefully."

"Ah, well, thanks, then. Your bed is very comfortable." _And has strange, erotic dream-inducing powers._ "And where, um, did you sleep?"

Obi-Wan leant forward over the table. His hand landed, perhaps accidentally, this time, on hers. But he didn't remove it. Warmth shimmered up her arm as she waited for him to speak, tension sparking in the air. Or possibly in her own imagination.

"On the couch, of course."

"Of course." She looked down, at his hand. On hers. Relished the casualness of it, the intimacy. Just that touch. In this moment. Made no sense, but it did. Drunk? _Yeah, just a little…_

And then, the warmth in her throat and the giddiness in her head conspired, persuading her brain what she thought next, in all its glorious ineloquence, should be spoken out loud.

"What I, erm… don't understand, about you Jedi, is this celibacy vow business," she slurred, still looking down at his hand. "I mean, it seems hypo... hyper.., illog.. err, stupid. To me. Actually. Surely you can't be oh-so-fearsome warriors without _passion_? Without understanding it, at least. Passion, I mean. And love, of course, it's so much of being human. And well, it doesn't fit you, in particular. You're not anywhere near as uptight as I expected, it's hard to imagine you as some sort of… I dunno… asexual, reclusive, um, priest."

Eyes unfocused, her thoughts drifted back to this morning and the Obi-Wan of her dream.

His hands on her, his breath on her skin, his _'tell me what you want…'_

That voice! He could probably make you, you know, just with his voice. Hmm, was she thinking now, or still speaking-

SMASH!

What was that? The present intruded abruptly with the loud crash and shatter of glass on the floor. Obi-Wan's hand snatched away. The shock tore through her alcohol-induced mist and a voice inside her head helpfully replayed what she'd just said.

_Stupid. Uptight. Asexual priest… Heavens, Chloe. You really said that. Insulted him, his beliefs, his way of life… __  
_  
And there he was, looking at her, wide-eyed, open mouthed. _Oh gods. Kriffing, kriffety-sithspit._ "I-I'm sorry." Her voiced faltered. What was his expression? Shock? Horror? "I didn't, I mean...I, err..., can you excuse me for a moment please?"

Option Two. Plan B. Run away.

Chloe jumped up and tried to slip out of the booth but the table was too near to move easily and her boot stuck under the seat. She struggled to get free, looking around in desperation for the ladies' room. Finally loose, she made to leave but Obi-Wan caught her wrist firmly and pulled her down towards him.

"It's over there," he said quietly, indicating the direction with a finger.

"Uh-huh." Chloe nodded, avoiding eye contact and setting off as if to go. He didn't release her, instead pulling her even closer. "Just be careful." His voice was not much more than a whisper. "I can't make a scene here. Don't upset anyone, Okay?"

Chloe nodded feebly, noticing her cheeks were scalding hot, his breath cool on her skin. He let go of her wrist.

Make a scene? What was this place? She was only going to the 'fresher. Chloe tried to concentrate on finding her path across the room without touching anyone, and not on the embarrassment searing through her body.

Male eyes of numerous species following her. She shuddered, still fraught, overhearing muttered, unintelligible comments, half-conscious that her skirt was maybe just a little too short, the heels on her boots just a little too high. Nearly there. But just a few steps from the door, someone blocked her path.

"Hey gorgeous. Need some company?" A thick set, sweaty, patently unoriginal and obviously drunk man leered down at her.

Not what she needed right now. "No thank you," she replied, directing a quick but ill-tempered smile upwards. She sidestepped him and dived for the door. Cheers and bawdy laughter erupting behind her.

Inside, Chloe dashed inside a cubicle, slammed the door, locked it and sat down with a _thump_.

"Right. Just breathe." She closed her eyes and forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths. Her head was spinning. The music from the main room of the club was muffled to a base beat and her ears were buzzing from the change in volume.

After all she'd been through today, how could she have been so stupid? What was wrong with her? So, she was utterly confounded about Obi-Wan. One moment he was irresistibly attractive, the next she thought he was teasing, and perhaps just naturally charming, then he seemed to be genuinely flirting with her, but surely, he couldn't…? And even if he did, she had no idea what she wanted, in this, whatever this was between them. But it was impossible. Not her, she didn't attract that kind of attention, which was irrelevant, anyway, because according to Li-Sei…

Unless Li-Sei had lied about the celibacy vow.

_But would she really do that? Surely not?__  
_  
Truth or not, one thing was clear: Chloe had made an utter fool of herself. She groaned, putting her head in her hands.

A few minutes of agonised contemplation yielded only one solution.

Relucantly, Chloe unlocked the cubicle and stepped out, splashed a little cold water on her face and smoothed her hair, tucking it neatly behind her ears. She tried to arrange her skirt and blouse to look as demure as possible.

Then she nodded confidently to her reflection, trying to banish any feelings of embarrassment from her mind. Failing. Try to ignore them, then, ride over them. Fake dignity. She might manage that. It was the only option.

She would simply have to go back out there and face him like a woman, apologise for what she'd said, and hope he forgave her.

Holding her head up, she took a deep breath and strode confidently back out into the bar.

But the area just by the door was much more crowded than before and Chloe was forced to pause, trying to work out a way through the bodies milling about in front of her. The music changed to an up-tempo dance beat and grew even louder.

Then she realised someone was yelling at her.

"Hey, you little slut. No girl says no to me." The unpleasant, unoriginal and drunk man from before. Chloe looked around, frantically, for an escape route, trying to glimpse over the shoulders of those around to where she had been sitting with Obi-Wan.

"Did you hear me?" the man continued, taking a step closer.

The glint of a knife under his leather coat. Panic constricted her chest. She needed to get away from him. Now.

The man was just inches away when a waitress squeezed in between them with a tray of drinks.

Suddenly, before she had chance to look for an escape route, Chloe was propelled sideways. A hand gripped her shoulder, firmly, but not painfully.

She gasped as an invisible force shoved her through a doorway into a darkened corridor.


	8. The Aftermath

Hello, my dear readers! I am so sorry for leaving you with such a cliffhanger last time, I've been away for a couple of weeks and had hoped to update before I left, but sadly real life intervened and time ran out. I hope this chapter goes somewhere towards making up for it. This one has taken me a while to get right, because a few things are revealed, such as an AU take on one possible interpretation of the Jedi Code, so I had to do some thinking instead of just hammering out the usual candy floss that is the rest of this fic. Incidentally, the next chapter will bring us to the end of Act I, so we are almost one third of the way through.

And thanks so much for the comments! I do intend to finish this story, although I might only be able to update once a fortnight for the next couple of months. I'll do my best.

So, back to our damsel in distress...

* * *

"Keep moving," Obi-Wan hissed, his arm sliding around her waist. "Don't worry, don't think, just do as I say."

Chloe's blood rushed warm with relief, and she wanted to thank him but she had to concentrate on just _moving_, willing her feet not to stumble as he hurried her down the corridor; passing doors, left then right, below a light source that flickered, hanging from its socket, flinging their two shadows against the stark duracrete floor ahead. Ahead, where the corridor split in two directions...

"This way, quick, I saw 'er!" a male voice called out from somewhere behind them. Muffled shouting followed, and then the scuffle of footsteps, growing louder…

Instantly Obi-Wan turned, twisted Chloe with him, and pushed her into an alcove.

"Shh, keep still," he whispered against her hair, guiding her backwards until her back pressed against the wall. Swiftly, he cupped the back of her head with one hand, holding her cheek against his shoulder while he gestured in the direction of the footsteps, and then flourished his robe around them both.

Chloe closed her eyes, every single muscle tensed, not daring to breathe, _unable_ to breathe…

The men charged past in a thunder of boots on hard flooring and harsh, aggressive laughter: impossibly close, but then quieter, fading into the distance. And then silence.

Still, Chloe didn't dare to move. The pressure of Obi-Wan's hand eased, but his fingers still rested against her hair.

"They've gone," he said, his lips brushing her temple. "Are you all right?"

"Mmm-huh," was all she managed in return, given her body's reaction to that simple, accidental contact. Given _his_ body was still practically pinning her to the wall, and given that fact was acutely apparent, in spite her shock-numbed limbs, because the clean scent, slightly fragrant of him – his soap, whatever – was assaulting her with every uneven breath. Cendana wood mixed with cinaroot, or something like that. Topped off by the fug of cheap cantina alcohol that clung to his clothes. Which meant she must reek of it too. _Lovely_.

A flutter of heartbeats later, he stepped away. Chloe shivered, and glanced down the corridor.

"Don't worry, they won't be back," Obi-Wan said, adjusting his robe, frowning with the air of someone who had just swatted an irritating, but harmless, vapfly.

Chloe, remembering her questions back in the bar, remembering her insults, realising she had neatly followed those up by getting into _exactly_ the kind of trouble Obi-Wan had warned her about, decided that vapfly might very probably be her.

"I think you'd better stay with me from now on." Obi-Wan was already walking back down the corridor. He paused in front of a grey door, pressing a palm against the metal for a second before activating the opening panel.

Feeling very young, very naïve, and very mistaken, Chloe caught up, and followed him through the door into a windowless storage room.

"Please, sit down." Obi-Wan gestured to a bench in the corner.

Chloe took a step towards it, but then turned, one hand against the wall, fighting the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. How ridiculous. She would not let him see her cry. Would not _let _herself cry, not like some silly girl. Would _not_…

"Hey." His hand touched her shoulder.

Chloe turned her face in the opposite direction, her throat constricting as she tried to speak. "Look, I'm sorry, I am really very, very sorry, about what I said, I didn't mean to offend you… and I'm sorry about all of what just happened. Thank you for helping me. Sorry for the inconvenience. But please, don't touch me like that. Please, just leave me alone."

His hand lifted immediately, but she felt his presence, behind and to her side, waiting. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"I don't care, Obi-Wan, what you _think_. Please."

"I _think_ that you have taken me for something I am not. And you don't need to thank me, or apologise."

She turned, only half turned, her hand still against the wall, and looked at him, ready to turn back again.

Not ready to find his face so close to hers.

"Hey," he repeated, quietly. Raised his hand. Traced his thumb along the track of the tear she had not noticed fall. Over her cheek, to her upper lip.

She knew, then, what she wanted. It was exactly the same thing every single nerve of her body wanted. And, the tenderness of his touch insisted to her befuddled brain, it might very well be what Obi-Wan wanted too.

And she wanted him, so simply, so definitely, so _desperately_, that she almost cried out when he dropped his hand and turned away.

He poured water from a dispenser unit into two small plastic cups and propped himself on a crate, indicating the bench opposite. "Please, sit down, and just listen to what I have to say for a few moments. I am not such terrible company, am I?"

Numbly, she crossed the room, took a cup without looking at him and sat down. She sipped the water, and then set it on the bench to her side so she could cross her arms in front of her body.

"Are you cold? You're shivering. Would you like my robe-"

"No." She raised a hand. "I'm fine." Still, she did not look at him.

"I…" he began, then hesitated. "Well, it was totally irresponsible, not to mention discourteous, for me to bring you to a wretched place like this. Firstly, I would like to apologise for that. Secondly, I did not consider your comments insulting, and I would like to do my best to answer them. And thirdly, I'm sorry my touching you causes such great anguish... truly sorry."

But relief had dawned, thawing her chilled skin, and she barely registered his last sentence. She looked up. "So you're not angry with me for causing… a scene? And for what I said earlier?"

"I think we avoided a scene. And anger, well… that is not the Jedi way." He smiled. "Something about which you seem to have been... misinformed."

"It's not exactly published on the holonet. Apparently you prefer an air of mystery."

"But surely you've seen - read about - our Code?"

"Seeing is not the same thing as understanding."

"Ah, now that is very true. Will you allow me to explain, then, at least those parts relevant to what you asked?"

"Okay." Her voice wavered. Anything that meant she didn't have to speak right now was good.

Obi-Wan finished his water, then set the cup carefully to the side. "You asked about passion. Well the Jedi Code says: _there is no passion, there is serenity_. By passion, we mean hasty, irrational reactions, directed by one's own personal desires. Such behaviour is forbidden to us, because we have to be able to react to any situation calmly and with complete clarity. However, that does not mean we are forbidden from feeling what you might also consider as passion – strong, profound emotions, or even… desires. We must simply understand these feelings and deal with them, so that we can set them aside if the situation dictates."

Chloe nodded. It made a certain sort of sense, even though she found it very difficult to imagine being able to set aside her own emotions in every situation. Perhaps any situation. She slid back on the bench so she could rest her head against the wall. "Go on."

"You also asked about love. Love is an emotion, and therefore love is not forbidden to us. And what you said is perfectly correct – to love is part of being human. If we were to deny that, it would be to deny our own feelings, and risk the very kind of irrational behaviour we set out to avoid."

"But you do have certain restrictions placed upon you, don't you?" Chloe drank the rest of her water. The room was hot and stuffy. She got up to fill her cup again. "More?"

"Yes, thank you," Obi-Wan said. "And yes, we do have restrictions, in line with our responsibilities. My commitment to serve the Jedi Order means I cannot make the same kind of commitment to another person. I cannot marry and I cannot have children. To do so would be irresponsible, since I cannot put any single person's welfare – their life, or indeed my own life, before my duty. However, that does not preclude me from certain relationships, friendship or more, within these limitations."

He sounded so calm about it, so detached. "Do you ever wish you could?" she asked, quietly, filling each cup in turn. "Have a family, I mean?"

"It is not something I can consider. It is not an option for me."

Turning, she waited for him to say more, but he did not. "And the celibacy vow," she said, "how does that come into all of this?" She handed him a cup.

"The celibacy vow exists because some Masters believe intimate relationships are dangerous, that they may lead to uncontrolled passions and ultimately to the dark side of the Force. Others, myself, included, believe no such vow is necessary to uphold a Jedi's commitment to the Order."

"And do you have any idea why my co-worker might be under the impression you have taken this vow?"

"Oh. Ah. I see. So that's why you believed..."

Chloe nodded.

"And does that belief explain your uncertainty, your discomfort… around me?" he asked, gently.

Discomfort was not perhaps quite what she would call it, but Chloe nodded again. "So Li-Sei lied to me?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, no, not at all."

"Then why-?"

"Ah. It is, a little, erm..." He looked down, his voice fading, a faint blush to his cheeks.

Chloe couldn't help but smile. "Go on."

"Relationships between fellow Jedi are quite common. When both parties understand the rules, it makes things much simpler. Li-Sei is quite, err, persistent. So, under the circumstances… "

Chloe was incredulous. "You lied to her?"

"Not, in so many words, exactly… I just let her, um, reach that conclusion herself."

Chloe grinned. She brimmed with guilt as she did it, but she couldn't help grinning. "Sounds like a lie to me."

Obi-Wan looked up, the picture of bashfulness. "Well perhaps a tiny, tiny one," he said, indicating the size with a finger and thumb.

Chloe sighed, and took a step towards him, her thigh just millimetres from where his hand lay, resting on his knee. "You know, you're are the most confusing man I have ever met. One moment I want to slap you, then I want to hug you, then I want to yell at you, then I want to…" She hesitated.

"Want to…?" he repeated, voice low, husky. His eyes, level with hers, flicked to her lips, his midnight gaze more intoxicating than any mysteriously-coloured, exotically-named, deceptively-alcoholic beverage.

"What do you want from me, Obi-Wan?" she asked, still uncertain, but risking another step forwards.

He held her gaze. "Whatever you want to give." The desire in his voice, in his eyes, was unmistakable.

Desire for her.

_Oh Gods._

Gods Gods Gods.  
  
Slowly, she swayed forwards, not to kiss him, but just to touch him, to rest her cheek against his, to close her eyes, feel his stubble, rough on her skin, his body, his heat, so close, so _real_…

He caught her hand, entwining their fingers. "Are you certain about this," he murmured, by her ear, brushing his lips against her cheek, "now you understand my... situation?"

No. Of course not. Of course she hadn't thought about all of that, his situation, the implications… it was far too much to think about. Simply the awareness that he wanted this too was enough, for now. "Yes," she said, pulling back to look into his eyes. "Yes."

And before she knew it he was kissing her. Softly, slowly, and incredibly gently. Every doubt, worry and fear in her head was forgotten, replaced with the sensation of his lips on hers, one hand sliding into to her hair while rough fingertips of the other stroked her cheek.

Eventually, breathlessly, they parted. His hand was still tangled in the soft hair at the nape of her neck. Smiling, Chloe ran a finger over the small beauty mark on his right cheekbone.

He smiled back, and she leaned to kiss him again. He pulled her closer, one arm around her waist, his kiss more insistent, this time, more confident, and she couldn't help but moan into his open mouth when his tongue slid against hers.

This was leading somewhere, inevitably, she managed to think, with the five percent of her brain cells still capable of coherent thought. Not so much _leading_, in fact, as _rocketing_, at faster-than-light speed, and as much as she wanted him, needed him, and didn't frankly give a flying _faargau_ is this wasn't the time... this room was most definitely not the place.

Perhaps Obi-Wan felt the same way, because the instant she hesitated, he did too. Their lips separated, and he rested his forehead against hers for a moment as they regained their breath.

Pulling back, he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, and smiled. "I know you said you don't care what I think. But for, what it's worth, I think you are the most beautiful thing I've laid eyes on in rather a long time."

"Flattery will get you anywhere, Kenobi."

But even as she spoke treacherous tears prickled her eyes. She let them fall this time, let him wipe them away. Felt tired, suddenly. A little overwhelmed.

He kissed her forehead. "In that case, sweetheart. I should probably take you home, before you get us into any more trouble."

Chloe nodded. "Good idea."

A fire exit down the corridor from the storage room led directly on to a side street, the paved surface slick with recent rainfall and streaked by lurid reflections of the neon signs overhead. It was cold out here, and mist rose on their breath as they walked. Chloe tried to pin down exactly how she was feeling - giddy, nervous, exhausted, delighted, strange, and, well, _happy_, ridiculously, happy...

Then she remembered something, and frowned. "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"I still don't understand why you were so shocked, earlier on."

"Shocked?"

"Don't tease me."

"Oh, you mean just before you ran away from me?"

She stopped walking. "Exactly. If I hadn't offended you, then why did you look so horrified? Why did you knock your drink on to the floor?"

His slow smile was suspiciously wicked. "Are you really sure you want to know?"

"Of course. It doesn't make any sense."

"Well," he said, leaning close to whisper in her ear, "it was just that experiencing you broadcasting... graphically erotic images was a little.... distracting."

Chloe squeaked. "Broadcasting?"

"Yes," he said, "I'm sorry, I should have ignored them, but I let my shields waver, and before I knew it, there we, _ahem_, were."

_The dream_. She had been remembering the blasted dream. Chloe groaned, and finding nowhere to hide, decided to bury her face in his robe.

"And it was strange," he continued, wrapping an arm around her back, "so vivid, almost like a memory. Which means that either _my_ memory is lacking, or you have a talented imagination."

"It was a dream," she said, voice muffled by his chest. "A memory of a dream."

"Ah, I see."

"And what else have I been, um, broadcasting?"

He chuckled, and kissed the top of her head. "Nothing at all. I've not been reading your thoughts, if that's what you're worried about. I can't do that."

_Thank you_, she prayed, to whoever was listening. _Thank you, THANK YOU._

A moment later, she peeped up at him, her confidence finally present and correct. "I think I've a lot to learn about the Jedi. Perhaps you could teach me the finer details."

Bravely, experimentally, she tossed caution into the night air, and conjured up an image of exactly _what_ she wanted him to teach her.

Obi-Wan hissed under his breath, closed his eyes for a second and pulled her more tightly against him, cupping her cheek with one hand. "I agree," he whispered thickly.

"And you need to work on those shields," she said, smiling, aching to kiss him again, instinctively tilting her face towards his.

He barely brushed her lips, instead moving to plant a light kiss on her temple. "I think for your sake we'd better leave that for another night."

Chloe groaned and pulled away, a groan that ended in a chuckle as they started to walk along the street again. _Infuriating man._ She shook her head. "Fine. Just promise not to take me to that hell-hole ever again." Shivering, she swerved in her path to avoid an oily puddle.

Obi-Wan grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. "Then I will solemnly promise, we'll never go there again," he said. "Although..."

Chloe quirked an eyebrow.

"You'll have to promise to show me the rest of that dream." He kissed her quickly, gently on the lips. "Just for educational purposes, of course."

She grinned like a fool. "Of course."

He nodded, smiled, kissed her again, and then wrapped his robe around both of them, shutting out the damp air. It was an action intimate in its simplicity, and Chloe's heart flooded with happiness, with inexplicable joy, with the feeling of, what was it? Yes, that was it: of _belonging_. Belonging somewhere, in this galaxy.

She snuck an arm around his waist, snuggling into his warmth as they walked together.

Right now, there was nowhere else she'd rather be.


	9. Making Up For Lost Time

Yes I know - I suck I suck I suck. Sorry to be so long updating this. RL has been... interesting lately, and my writing time has been reduced to almost nothing. Thanks for all the comments and reminders to continue. I don't know when the next update will be but I'll try my best to write more for you!

Now, where were we...

* * *

Chloe fiddled with a shoulder strap of her expensive emerald satin evening gown and scanned the refreshments table slowly, wondering how much time she could waste choosing a drink. It was hopeless, of course, given the event was scheduled to continue for at least another two hours. That meant two more hours of trying to talk to people she didn't know, about things she had never taken the time to fully understand; of talking _and_ trying to eat exotic food from a flimsy plate, without embarrassing herself by spilling unpredictable sauces and crumbs down the front of a dress that redefined the meaning of uncomfortable.

Settling on a glass of pale yellow, gently fizzing Veronian wine, she slipped into the shadow of one of the vast, carved marble pillars that supported the ceiling of the Jedi Temple's stately Grand Hall and let her eyes roam over the crowded the room. The cream of Coruscant's senators, diplomats and business leaders were all in attendance, and the colourful patchwork of elegant suits, painted smiles and expensive dresses almost seemed to glow in the soft lighting, the impressive display interrupted only here and there by the staid brown robes and restrained expressions of the Jedi.

Tonight was an event with a single purpose: to convince those outside the Order that the rumours were unfounded, that the Jedi were in control, and were fully capable of wining the war. Unfortunately for Chloe, such a situation demanded silky-smooth charm or, in the very least, artfully exaggerated confidence - not the stilted conversational skills of a lowly security analyst, whose usual solution to a tendency to put her foot in her mouth was to keep that mouth firmly shut, or better still finding a damn good reason not to attend in the first place. But worming her way out of tonight had never been an option. The singularity of her position as an intern had made Chloe's presence a "necessity", and such a wording of invitation, coming direct from Master Yoda himself, was not one easy to decline.

Chloe sighed, watching the bubbles in her glass float to the surface of the liquid. For an indulgent few seconds, she allowed herself to wish that Obi-Wan was here. Unfairly and unbearably, the very morning after the eventful day of the hostage crisis on Tundi; the morning after the evening when he had kissed her in a storage room in at the back of a grimy cantina, both he and Anakin had been called away from Coruscant. With limited security clearance, and not quite daring to use any unorthodox techniques to delve into the Temple intranet, Chloe hadn't been able to find out where they'd gone, or when they would come back.

That night, Obi-Wan had escorted her home exactly as he promised. Looking up at him in the yellow, flickery security light by the door to her apartment building, Chloe found herself struggling to say goodbye. She wanted to ask him to stay, but hesitated, not sure what his reaction would be.

"There's no rush," Obi-Wan said, quietly, before she had chance to say anything at all. He bent to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "Just… think about it."

And before she could tell him that, actually, she'd had it with thinking, and could he please just make the decision and take her to bed before she lost the few remaining scraps of her sanity, he'd gone, with nothing more than a promise to call the next day.

But when he called, she'd just dashed out to buy groceries, and she returned to find a message hurriedly apologising that he had to go away.

That had been sixteen days ago.

"Miss O'Brian?"

Chloe flinched at the interruption and looked up to find Mace Windu standing in front of her. He was accompanied by a curiously mismatched couple: a very tall, hook-nosed, stern-faced humanoid male and a tiny, timid-looking, attractive female of the same species. Both had skin a vibrant shade of purple.

"May I introduce Senator Alit Orta and his newly-elected successor, Riyo Chuchi of Pantora," Mace said, with a gracious nod and a wave of his hand. "This is Chloe O'Brian, our intern from the Academy. She's been working closely with us on military intelligence matters. " Chloe fixed smile on her face and extended her hand towards the male senator. He shook it limply and frowned at her. She fought the urge to scowl back, and instead turned to greet his companion.

A few minutes later, Chloe found herself bored but at the same time thankful; Senator Orta had launched into a lecture on the military history of Pantora, and while the subject matter might have been duller than one of Li-Sei's sermons on procedure for the loaning of pencil sharpeners, the senator (unlike Chloe's co-worker) did not seem to notice whether she was actually listening. As his voice droned on, Chloe's gaze was drawn towards a sudden movement by the main doorway of the hall.

A wave of tingles rushed up her back, a surge of blood flooding her cheeks.

_Obi-Wan?__  
_  
Yes. It really was him. Looking rather battle-worn and tired (and handsome, _good Gods_ ten times more handsome than her memory had let her believe), there he was, shaking hands and bowing courteously as he made his way around the room.

Chloe dragged her eyes away, suppressing a sudden urge to beam in delight, half closing her eyes in the effort to re-focus on the senator's speech. Mace was still standing next to her, after all, and although she had no knowledge of his opinion on Jedi relationships, she would guess it was not favourable.

She had replied to Obi-Wan's message in a roundabout way, two days after he left, by forwarding him a copy of her notes on the program she developed for the Tundi mission, and ending her message:

_I regret not asking you to stay that night. Perhaps you didn't want to. Thinking about it has only made me realise my instincts were correct. My answer was, and still is, yes._

_C_

Had he even received the message yet? She could not be certain, and it was likely he had been distracted by whatever crisis he and Anakin had been called away to resolve.

Caught in her thoughts, Chloe only half-noticed when Mace turned and bowed in greeting, smiling over her shoulder.

"Master Kenobi! I was relieved to hear the operation was a success, despite the difficulties you encountered."

Chloe had spun around before she could stop herself, breathing in sharply as Obi-Wan's eyes met hers. She saw a flash of amusement there, and the warmth of familiarity in the beginnings of a smile that widened before he bowed to Mace. "Thank you, Master Windu." Obi-Wan turned back to Chloe and inclined his head. "Miss O'Brian."

He clasped her hand, and, as Chloe heard the male senator from Pantora ask Mace a question, Obi-Wan's eyes very quickly left hers to flick right down to her flimsy silver sandals and then back up again. Her skin flushed in the path of his gaze, and suddenly her dress felt more revealing than uncomfortable. A little tendril of excitement radiating from the base of her spine and wrapped itself around her body. Obi-Wan smiled.

"Master Kenobi, may I introduce Senator Alit Orta and his newly-elected successor, Riyo Chuchi of Pantora…" Mace began, and Chloe wondered if Senator Orta would engage Obi-Wan in a long discussion on military history. Although it was almost unbearable to be so close to him and have to hide how she was feeling, she would rather stand here in torment for an hour than have him leave again.

Obi-Wan spoke politely with the Pantorians for a while, and Chloe, happily resigned to the position of spectator, trying to draw her conscious thoughts away from Obi-Wan, began to realise why Mace seemed to be lavishing so much attention on this particular couple. It appeared that Senator Orta had been a fairly vocal critic of the Jedi. Clearly Mace hoped the new senator would not inherit her predecessor's cynicism.

"Now, your excellencies, Master Windu, would you please be so kind as to excuse me?" Obi-Wan said, eventually, and Chloe's heart slumped a little at the prospect. But then he continued. "The mission resulted in some security issues which I'm afraid I must discuss urgently with Miss O'Brian."

"Nothing critical, I hope," said Senator Orta, smoothly.

"Not at all," Obi-Wan replied, looking the tall senator straight in the eye. "It is our policy to deal with such matters before they can become critical."

And Chloe barely had time to contain her smile before she found herself in the corridor, being hurried along by a firm hand on her elbow.

"Obi-Wan," she said, breathlessly, not really knowing where to start. "Where have you been? What are these security issues?"

Obi-Wan slowed to a stop, and glancing up, Chloe fought a sudden urge to push him against the wall and kiss him senseless. "I – It's good to see you again," she said, cursing the wobble in her voice, confused by his silence. Doubting everything, all over again.

He still said nothing, just chuckled and activated a door pad behind her, putting a hand on her waist and guiding her backwards into a dark room. The air smelled of dust and leather, and it occurred to Chloe that the door was probably a side entrance into the oldest part of the archives, an area usually closed outside normal office hours. Her back hit something hard. _Bookshelves_. Obi-Wan's hands cupped her cheeks, his eyes, glinting in the half light, meeting hers.

"Hello," he said, and kissed her.

Chloe melted into him. His lips were gentle against hers at first, but there was an undercurrent of urgency in the way he touched her, of something restrained but needy. His hand moved down her neck, over her shoulder, along and round the silky bodice of her dress, fingertips tracing the edge of the gown and then moving to caress the bare skin of her back. And somewhere deep inside her subconscious, Chloe wondered if this was really happening.

_Not a dream. Please don't let it be another cursed dream…_

Gently, but insistently, she pulled back. Obi-Wan looked down at her, one hand moving to rest at her hip, the other sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck. Chloe studied his face, taking in his features with eyes now accustomed to the low light. She smiled. "Real. Definitely real."

He nodded, ran a finger along her cheek, and moved to kiss her again.

She pressed a hand to his chest. "But what about the security issues… do we have time for this…?"

His lips rested against her cheek. "I'm afraid they are not quite as urgent as I may have implied."

She pushed him back a little. "Really?"

He smiled, albeit hesitantly. "After spending fifteen days on a wild Bantha chase around half the galaxy in the name of diplomacy I think I'm owed one evening off." He stroked a finger and thumb along a lock of her hair. "Especially when there are such tempting alternatives to massaging the egos of politicians."

"And there was I thinking you Jedi were the pinnacles of decency and truth."

He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against hers, the tip of his tongue sliding over her lower lip. "I assure you I can be utterly indecent, if necessary."

"Mmm... but the reception – I was practically forced to attend. And you…"

He kissed her cheek, then her temple. "Are you actually telling me you want to go back?"

"No… of course not."

"Then I suggest we retire to my quarters to work on those security issues. In fact, it's not a suggestion, it's an order." He pulled back a little to study her face. "That is, unless you've changed your mind."

"No, I… did you see my message?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "The day you sent it. Just before we jumped to hyperspace."

She raised her hand to his cheek. "I missed you. It seemed like forever."

He placed his hand over hers, the intensity of his expression showing for just a second that he reciprocated the feeling, even if something - his Jedi restraint, she reasoned, stopped him from expressing it.

_Gods, is this what it's like for him? Not even being able to say 'I missed you?' Is this what it will be like... for us?_

Obi-Wan evaporated her thoughts by kissing her again. His fingers drifted across her hip and she moaned into his mouth, finally surrendering to the flood of arousal, sliding her hand into his hair, releasing the stress accumulated in all those days of longing for him, of worrying about him.

He pulled back, trailing his lips along her neck. "So, let's go. Make up for lost time."

"No… too far… don't want to wait… not any longer…"

She heard his chuckle, and a moment later he slipped the thin strap of her dress from her shoulder, trailing his lips against the bare flesh there and then circling his thumb around her nipple through the thin layer of slackened satin. He placed a series of slow kisses up her neck and earlobe as his hand continued its tortuous motion.

"Do you have any idea," he whispered, by her ear, "What you do to me?"

"Mmmngh…" is all Chloe could manage in response, her head lolling back against the shelves.

"Of how much restraint it took that night to leave you?" he continued, his other hand skimming her thigh. "How every day since I've thought of you? Of what I want to do to you?" His fingers found the split in her skirt and slid down the back of her leg to hook her knee.

Chloe instinctively wrapped her leg around him, trying to pull him closer but he resisted, tugging down the top of her dress and cupping her bare breast before lowering his head to suck softly. She ran her fingers through his hair and let her eyes drift closed, focusing on the sensation of his wet mouth on her sensitive skin. He teased her hardened nipple with his tongue as his other hand left the back of her knee, sliding up her thigh until it met the lace of her underwear. Chloe drew in a sharp breath, and he paused for a moment before brushing his thumb over the thin material, grazing the point that made her shudder with exquisite, almost painful pleasure.

Perhaps sensing the precarious state of her arousal, Obi-Wan quickly moved his hand away, caressing the softness of her inner thigh in long strokes. His mouth left her breast and he moved to kiss her neck again. His whole body was pressed firmly against hers and she could feel his heat and hardness through the rough material of his clothes. Chloe found herself suddenly desperate to touch him and she wriggled a hand between their bodies, moving over the bulge at his groin.

Obi-Wan quickly grabbed her wrist, pinning it high above her head, holding her other arm still with an invisible force and then moving his mouth to her ear again."No. Not yet. Please, just let me touch you…"

Both hands restrained, Chloe stopped his words with a sensuous kiss and in response his hand slid up her thigh again, his fingers slipping between her legs and tracing the damp material of her underwear. Chloe whimpered, unable to stand the torture of his delicate touch.

"Please Obi-Wan," she whispered against his mouth, her breath ragged. Her voice turned into a groan as he kissed her deeply, simultaneously ripping the flimsy lace and slipping a finger inside her, sliding a thumb over her clit, bringing her right to the brink of orgasm with only a few, steady movements.

"Wait, I want…" but Chloe forgot what she wanted, as he loosened his grip on her wrist, letting her hand fall to his shoulder. She knew only the sensations he was building in her, the release that was so long overdue, and, as his thumb circled gently, a second finger joining the first, was now so very, very close…

"Look at me," she heard him say, somewhere in the distance. "Open your eyes, Chloe."

His movements slowed and she forced her eyes open, to see his face; his smile, his lips dipping towards her, kissing her softly as his fingers thrust once, then twice, taking her over the edge, into the sweet, sweet pleasure of oblivion.

He released her, to drift slowly back to reality, her smile buried in the crook of his neck, salty skin against her lips. His arms cradled her gently. Breathless, she slumped against him as the pleasure ebbed away to a gentle tingle.

Eventually, she lifted her head she looked up at him and he smiled, running a finger over her flushed cheek. He leant closer and pressed his mouth softly to her forehead, then each cheek, the tip of her nose and finally her lips.

Breathless, contented, but at the same time just slightly frustrated, she wondered why, then recalled that he had barely let her touch him, and she was just trying to find the words to protest the imbalance of the situation, when his expression suddenly became serious. He stepped away, turning his head to the door.

"What's the matter?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "Somebody's coming."


	10. Hopeless Case

"Somebody's coming."

In one fluid movement Obi-Wan grabbed a large book from the shelf and pulled out a chair at the leather-topped table in the centre of the room. "Behind me," he whispered, opening the book and sitting down. "Try to look busy."

Noticing his position opposite the door, Chloe nodded and stumbled behind him so his body hid most of her crumpled dress. She had barely regained her breathing when the muscles of Obi-Wan's shoulder stiffened under her hand.

"She's here," he said, activating the overhead light with a flick of his wrist.

Chloe blinked in the sudden brightness and glanced at the floor. "Oh!"

The black scraps of her torn underwear lay discarded and very visible on the polished surface to the right of her feet. With a little gasp and a jerk of her leg, she stretched and kicked the material beneath the nearest bookshelf.

A second later the door opened. Chloe fixed her eyes on the book in front of Obi-Wan.

He waited a second before raising his head. "Ah, Master Nu, good evening," he said, his voice as smooth as honey and as calm as a glassy lake.

Feeling about as calm as a stormy sea full of Neimoidian devil fish, Chloe looked up.

"Master Kenobi, what a surprise," said the woman at the doorway, arching one thin eyebrow.  
_  
__Jocasta Nu. _

Chloe had only met the Master-in-charge of the Jedi archives in person a couple of times. Their exchanges had been perfectly cordial, but Chloe had not found it difficult to believe the reputation Master Nu had for making Padawans - and apparently even some Jedi Knights - whimper with a single sharp word. Under her headship, the archives had been run with military discipline for over twenty years.

Now the librarian's gaze of cold, feminine steel fixed on her.

Chloe became instantly aware that her hair was a tangled mess, that her lips were puffy and swollen from too-urgent kisses, and that her right cheek was quite possibly glowing - visibly - thanks to the friction from Obi-Wan's stubble. Master Nu's eyes narrowed very slightly, and Chloe's heart sped up.

"Ah, and Miss O' Brian," the librarian said, in a voice as icy as her eyes. "Good evening. I was just checking over the catalogue and I thought I heard a commotion. Is everything alright?"

Chloe tried to smile, praying her voice would not wobble when she spoke. "I was just helping Obi-Wan with an enquiry about…"

A beat. Two.

"About…" No. Her brain refused to cooperate.

"Wookie… war cries," Obi-Wan interjected, and Chloe could almost feel him wince as he spoke. "I was looking for some reference information and Miss O'Brian managed to track down some recordings. Perhaps that's what you heard? We're just, um, cross-referencing the details here."

Chloe nodded emphatically, glancing down to Obi-Wan and noticing a large red smudge on his left cheek. _Oh dear… _

"I was unaware the archive had such an impressive audio collection… " Obi-Wan was saying, apparently going for the option of blatant flattery.

Just as Chloe was wondering how he expected to get away with something so unsubtle, Jocasta Nu's expression softened. A hint of an upward curve flitted across the older woman's pale lips.

"I have some extra records in my office," she said, "if you need to hear more. Although it's late… perhaps you'd like to call in tomorrow? I will be back here in the Temple for the next week."

"Wonderful," said Obi-Wan, stressing each syllable rather too much, his voice loaded with enthusiasm. "I'll stop by first thing in the morning."

Chloe half-expected a cruel laugh or a sarcastic remark. Surely Master Nu wasn't so easily charmed? But then the librarian smiled. A real smile. Chloe had previously doubted that Master Nu was even _capable_ of smiling. The expression transformed her face, and for a second Chloe caught a glimpse of the attractive younger woman she must once have been.

"And I trust you are settling in Miss O'Brian?" Master Nu continued, and Chloe thought she might even be able to detect a hint of humour lingering behind those grey eyes.

"Y-yes ma'am. Thank you."

"Then I'll leave you to your work and see you both tomorrow." With a final curt node to Chloe, she turned sharply on her heel, raising one hand in goodbye, without looking back.

"Thank you. Good evening Master Nu," Obi-Wan called after her.

Chloe waited until her footsteps had faded into the distance before letting out a long breath.

Obi-Wan shook his head, looking a little perplexed, and got to his feet. "Let's make our escape before she decides to come back."

Down the hallway, as the door of the turbolift closed safely behind them, Chloe finally dared to look up at Obi-Wan, her chest bursting with a strange, bubbling mixture of relief, excitement and hysteria.

Obi-Wan bit his lip and looked back down at her, his frown doing nothing to hide the laughter in his eyes.

Chloe shook her head. Obi-Wan's serious expression dissolved into a grin and a second later they were laughing together.

"She knew," Chloe managed to say, eventually, still struggling for breath, her chest aching. "No question about it."

"Because the book was upside down, or because you called me Obi-Wan?"

"Oh… ah, well, neither, actually. I think it might have had something to do with this." She traced a finger along the large and quite obvious smudge of lipstick lying charmingly across his right cheek.

Obi-Wan stooped to peer at his reflection in the mirrored control panel. "Ah…" He rubbed at the coloured mark distractedly. "Master Nu does have a bit of a soft spot for me. You know-"

"She's actually human after all?"

"Apparently so."

"But hang on a moment, what was all that about Wookie war cries? Are you really implying I sound like-"

"Of course not." Obi-Wan flashed her a mischievous grin as he stepped closer and slid an arm around her waist. "Although to be quite certain I think I might need to hear it again."

But just as he moved to kiss her, the ping of the lift announced their arrival at Obi-Wan's floor.

Inside his apartment, Obi-Wan headed to the kitchen to get drinks while Chloe waited in the living area, not quite sure whether to sit down or wait to be asked. The soft carpet and silence were a striking contrast to the bright lights and banter of the lift just a few moments before, and it suddenly seemed strange, to be here, in his apartment, with Obi-Wan. Really _with_ him; both of them quite clear about what was going to happen before she left again.

"Only water, I'm afraid, the kitchen is almost bare." Obi-Wan's voice made her jump. He neatly moved the glass out of the way to miss her flailing arm as she jerked around.

"Sorry," she mumbled, taking the drink.

"No need to apologise," he replied, gently taking her free hand and leading her to the sofa.

"So…" she started to say, looking everywhere but his face.

"Are you tired?" he asked, squeezing the hand he was still holding before letting it go. She closed her eyes for a second.

"No… not at all." She smiled brightly, and looked up at him. "I'm just trying to get used to the idea of being here… like this."

"Do you want to leave?" His eyes were intent on her, the same intensity that had set her skin on fire when he'd looked at her in the Hall.

Unmistakable desire. For her.

She raised a hand to his chest, edging over the rough fabric towards the bare skin at the opening of his tunic. The urge to touch him was overwhelming. She couldn't have fought it, even if she wanted to. "No."

She moved her hand higher, running her fingers lightly over his neck, the stubble of his chin, exploring the texture of him slowly, hesitantly at first, but then with increasing confidence when he did not stop her. She grazed a thumb over his lower lip and he opened his mouth slightly. She felt his fingers brush against those of her other hand as he took the glass of water she was very close to spilling. Then she watched in amazement as he floated both glasses to the coffee table.

"Show off."

"You don't know the trouble I'd get into if my Padawan saw me using the Force so frivolously."

Somewhere in the room an alarm beeped. Obi-Wan's forehead creased in irritation.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. But would you please excuse me for a moment? There's something I need to attend to."

"Of course," Chloe said. "Are you expecting visitors?"

Obi-Wan had stood up, and was pulling off the top layer of his tunic. "No, nothing like that." He crossed to the 'fresher. "Just a little injury I picked up on the mission."

"I thought it was a wild bantha chase?"

"Not entirely," he replied, raising his voice over the sound of running water. "We did manage to retrieve a large surveillance archive. It might even prove useful, if the intel droids can patch it back together."

Chloe nodded to herself, and rested her head back on the sofa. Better leave him to do whatever he had to do. Although she was curious about the mission, those questions could wait until the morning.

First there was tonight.

Her stomach twisted with a sudden bout of nerves. This was what she wanted, she was certain; two long weeks away from him had been plenty of time to figure that out. It was perfectly rational. How many sane women could _not_ want what Obi-Wan was offering: an exciting affair with – as a bit of holonet research had revealed - one of the most talked-about, most well-respected men in the galaxy? A man who was attractive, intelligent, had the power to infuriate her completely, yes, but in such a charming way that she could not help but like him all the more for it. Someone who, for a reason she hadn't yet been able to work out, seemed to want _her_. For now, at least. And if their relationship fizzled out after a few months, who cared? She could do this, couldn't she? She could hold herself back. She was a young professional, an independent woman, she could have fun, and walk away.

But as her temporary, adrenalin-induced confidence draining away into the dark corners of Obi-Wan's elegant, tranquil, impossibly neat apartment, a small, unwelcome voice in Chloe's head continued with the thoughts she had tried to suppress.

Who was she kidding.

She had been so happy to see Obi-Wan earlier; so relieved, so _needy_. She'd never felt that kind of need with anyone else before, and she knew that, in truth, she would gladly take whatever part of himself he was prepared to give.

And that was just the problem. She would take any part of him. Desperately. Gladly. Far too gladly.

Self-control. That single phrase epitomised Obi-Wan. He had spoken about emotions as if they were something you could turn on and off; feelings that you could acknowledge then choose to override. And although he had not said it in so many words, there was one thing Chloe was pretty certain was not supposed to happen in Jedi relationships. What else could be responsible for making her feel so totally and incontrovertibly _out of _control?

The way he had touched her in the archives, nothing had ever felt as good. But actually she would have been just as happy if he had only kissed her… or simply talked to her, or held her hand… and well, to be honest he didn't even need to do that. He seemed to possess the power to turn her into a pile of hormonal, highly un-feminist goo with a single sweep of his eyes.

Chloe closed her eyes and sighed. If she had not been swept away by her stupid lust for the past two weeks, perhaps she could have thought about this rationally. Perhaps she could have worked out that she should hold back, and try to control her own emotions before she leapt into Obi-Wan's bed.

But now it was too late. How could she be honest with him and retain her dignity? What was she supposed to say? "I'd better not sleep with you because I think I might be in love with you?" Right. How pathetic. She wasn't even certain… it could just be a crush. He certainly made her feel more like seventeen than twenty-four.

"Okay in there?"

Obi-Wan's cheery voice startled her again. The water had stopped running. When she didn't reply he popped his head out from behind the fresher door. "I'll only be another couple of minutes." He leant out further, exposing a bare shoulder.

Chloe gulped and smiled. "Sure."

He nodded and disappeared again.

_Get a grip, Chloe._

Taking a long breath, she stood up. Nonsensical as it seemed, she actually felt better when she was talking to him. It was as if he gave her some sort of mysterious confidence boost, or at least distracted from being so annoyingly self-aware. She walked slowly over to the fresher door.

"So what happened to you?" She tried to sound casual.

"Oh, nothing serious. Just a run-in with an over-enthusiastic vulture droid too stupid to know it was supposed to attack ships, not people. The healers insist the bacta dressing is changed every twelve hours."

Chloe peeked in through the gap in between the door and the frame. Obi-Wan, naked from the waist upwards, his back to her, was leaning slightly forwards, over the sink. A medical pack lay open on the counter to his left.

She heard him hiss, then curse under his breath.

"Need some help?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "It's not pretty."

"I'm sure it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Really?" He said, half-turning towards her.

"I trained as a medical doctor for three semesters before switching to cryptography. I specialised in battlefield injuries."

But Chloe couldn't help but wince when Obi-Wan turned to face her fully.

An ugly, red half-healed gash stretched right across his abdomen. It was widest at the centre, the skin jagged and swollen at the edges. Across his chest the wound faded to a thin pink line that disappeared under a partially-removed dressing; a smattering of small, similarly-coloured marks spotted the surrounding area.

"Does it hurt?"

"I've had worse."

"Looks like it was deep." She stepped beside him to wash her hands. And dangerous, she thought, scrubbing her fingers with soap, trying not to imagine the rough metal of a vulture droid's cutting arm gouging through his skin. _Just a little deeper, just a little to the left…_ She suppressed a shudder. "Here, let me finish that off for you." She almost expected him to flinch away as she reached for the strip of gauze still attached to his chest but he remained motionless. She focused on her fingers, his skin warm beneath them.

"So why did you switch?" he asked, as she worked quickly to clean and re-dress the wound.

"My bedside manner was found to be somewhat… wanting." She knew he was probably smiling in amusement, but she kept her eyes on his chest. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for all that empathy and sympathy. It was a bit of a shock at the time. I'd always assumed I would study medicine like my father."

"You thought a great deal of him, didn't you?"

Chloe fixed the last bacta strip in place, and looked up, finding her breath caught by the combined gentleness of Obi-Wan's voice and his expression.

"No man has ever quite lived up to his standard."

_At least, not until now…__  
_  
She looked away quickly, and packed up the medical bag. "You're done."

"Isn't this the point where you ask me how I'm feeling, doctor?"

"Um…, yeah, how-" she stopped herself, and threw him a sarcastic look. "Tease."

"Actually I prefer the strict, unsympathetic approach."

"Oh really?"

"Mmm-huh. It's quite sexy."

"You're crazy, Kenobi."

"Is that a medical diagnosis?"

"Yup." Chloe rinsed her hands and dried them.

When she had finished, he raised a hand to her chin, turning her face up to his. "Then what does that make you?"

"Hopeless case."

He looked down at her for a long moment, and she hoped he hadn't noticed the tremble in her voice.

He ran a thumb gently along her cheek.

_Please, no more questions._ She was certain she would struggle to speak.

Thankfully, he decided to kiss her instead. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest. Chloe ran her hands over the muscles of his back, surrendering to his lips, his taste, his heat.

Obi-Wan's lips dipped to her ear. "Bedroom?"

"Mmm." _Too late to back out now._

His arms lifted her easily, and his mouth found hers again. She was barely aware of being carried across the room, of her sandals slipping from her feet; seconds later she felt the softness of his bed beneath her back.

"Turn over," Obi-Wan whispered, and she obliged, wriggling onto her front. He swept her hair from her shoulders and pressed soft kisses to her neck, sliding his hand over the silky back of her dress, until he found the row of tiny hooks that held the material together.

"I'm not sure this dress was designed to come off," Chloe said, voice muffled by the pillow. "I could barely get into it in the first place."

"I might be able to help with that." He ran a finger lightly down the row of fastenings. The material slipped to her sides.

"Cheat," she said, shivering in pleasure as his cool fingers grazed her flushed skin.

Obi-Wan chuckled, and tugged at the material, trying to slide it from under her. "Hey, be careful." She raised herself slightly so he could pull it free. "The deposit on this thing is half a months' wages."

But she forgot all about the dress the second Obi-Wan's hands returned to her bare back. She felt his hair tickle her shoulder then his lips nuzzled her neck, stubble pricking slightly, his hands smoothing down, over her arms, to the ends of her fingertips.

"Turn over, Chloe," he murmured. "Let me see you."

She did so slowly, serious now as she felt vulnerable, naked before him for the first time. His expression was solemn too.

He brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. "I would never do anything to hurt you, you know."

"I know."

It was true. She trusted him. She just didn't quite trust herself…

Obi-Wan bent to kiss her, gently at first, inviting her response, running his tongue lightly over her lower lip. She opened her mouth, sliding her hands into his hair to pull him closer, meeting his tongue, enjoying the sensation of his weight resting against her.

His hands started to move over her body, exploring, gently, just firm enough not to tickle but to caress. She surrendered completely, letting her mind drift and her limbs relax as he kindled and then inflamed her body's arousal once again. How did he manage to touch her with just the right amount of pressure, she wondered, to give the impression that his hands were made to do this? And how in the galaxy did he manage to convey so much feeling – reverence, desire, and an awareness of exactly the effect he was having on her – with just the simple pressure of skin against skin?

The answer, of course was simple.

_Because he's a talented lover. And, well... the rest is all in my own mind. __  
_  
As his fingers moved to her thighs and drifted higher, Chloe tensed instinctively. She had still barely touched him; she didn't want this to end just yet, but her feeble body was aching for release and that it would only take the smallest of touches with those talented fingers...

Sensing the tension, Obi-Wan paused and pulled away, leaving his hand resting on her thigh.

"Open your eyes."

She forced open heavy lids. His face was just inches away from hers.

"Relax. I want to show you something."

Eyes locked with hers, his hand started to move higher again, over the very softest skin of her inner thigh, then higher…

"Ohhh…" the sounds tumbled from her lips with no control whatsoever.

He caressed her sensitive, yielding flesh slowly, perfectly. She bit her lip and forced herself to relax, focusing on his eyes above her, at any moment expecting to feel the crash of her orgasm. But it didn't happen; instead the sensations just continued to build and build.

Perspiration beaded on Obi-Wan's forehead and a small groan escaped his lips.

Strange, Chloe thought, since she was not touching him at all, paralysed as she was by the pleasure he was inflicting on her. Then, as his next moan coincided with hers, she realised.

He smiled and nodded. "I can feel you. Through the Force, your pleasure..."

She closed her eyes, swamped and half-numbed by sensation. What hope did she have, when he so-easily rendered her almost unable to move? The prickle of annoyance that accompanied the thought helped her focus enough to force out an irritated groan.

"That. Is. So. Unfair." With a great deal of willpower, she managed to raise one arm and wrap her fingers around the wrist of the hand that was touching her. "You're not even naked yet."

He chuckled, and bent to kiss her on the lips. Then his hands left her body.

The mattress shifted, and Chloe opened her eyes just in time to see him stand up at the bottom of the bed, and begin to pull off his boots. She quickly pushed herself up onto her elbows to get a better view. Noticing her appraisal, he smiled wickedly, pushing trousers and underwear down with just slightly too much of a roll of the hips for a respectable Jedi Master.

Chloe grinned and twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

Deliciously naked, he crawled back up the bed, holding out a hand to pull her into a sitting position opposite him.

"Better?"

She cast an approving glance over his body. "Yes."

His hand still held hers but he made no attempt to touch her, waiting now, for her to make the first move.

Freeing her hand, she shuffled towards him, raising herself onto her knees so her mouth was level with his forehead. She placed a kiss there, tasting salt on his skin, and ran the fingers of both her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, tracing the muscles of his arms.

Then she sank down a little, pressing her forehead to his, and turned her exploratory caress to his chest, skirting the edges of the dressing, then tentatively moving lower, to his hips.

There was no intention, in her touch, to generate pleasure for _him_; she was simply responding to her own need to feel his warm skin beneath her fingertips. Chloe was surprised, then, when her fingers skirted over his belly and tangled into the coarse hair below and she felt his long, exhaled moan against her cheek. And she could not help but smile when she finally encircled the silky hardness of his erection and his hips jerked forward involuntarily.

He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his breath hot and increasingly erratic against her skin as she stroked him, cautiously at first, but then a little more firmly as she grew in confidence. She let a second hand join the first, exploring while the other kept up a steady rhythm.

His hands were placed flat on the bed by his sides, and she glanced down to see his fingers twisting into the coverlet, the muscles of his forearms rigid with tension.

Chloe was mesmerised by this mysterious power she suddenly seemed to have over him. The way he had touched her was incredible, but the notion that _she_ could have this effect on _him_ was even more erotic.

And perhaps a small part of her was relieved he wasn't quite as in control as she had previously thought.

"Relax, Obi-Wan," she teased, moving her mouth to his, running the tip of her tongue over his lower lip, stroking him just a little harder. He moaned again, louder this time. She wondered if he could feel how much this was turning her on. How far could she push him? What would it take to make him lose control?

"Do you want my mouth on you?" she said, so intoxicated by arousal that she forgot how embarrassing she usually found talking during sex.

"Just here?" She slid her thumb through the drop of moisture at the tip of his erection, spreading it slowly in a circle, visualising her lips moving over the same place. "I want to taste you. Please, let me-"

The noise he made next was almost a growl. His hand was suddenly against the back of her neck as he closed the centimetres between their mouths, claiming her lips and pushing his tongue against hers.

She opened her mouth willingly, losing grip on his body as he pressed her back down into the mattress.

"Too much," he murmured, moving his mouth to her neck and biting the flesh there just a little too harshly. He soothed the same spot with soft, wet kisses. "You're too much to handle." She felt him smile against her skin.

Chloe giggled. "Sorry."

In this position their bodies were aligned and Chloe wrapped a leg around Obi-Wan's hip, his hardness pressed against her softness, slick and ready for him. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest; just one small movement and he would be inside her.

He rested his weight on his elbows, cupping her face and watching her for a long moment.

"Okay sweetheart?" he whispered. "Just tell me to stop now, if you don't want this, and I will."

_Good Gods_ he was going to _kill_ her.

"No... don't stop," she said hoarsly, but then frowned. "Do we need to use… anything?"

He smoothed a thumb across her forehead and shook his head. "Our regulation dietary supplements take care of that. It's been policy for a while now, even if the Council don't officially recognise that we may get ourselves into procreative situations."

"Fine." She raised finger to his lips. "Enough of the Jedi politics. Where were we?"

"Sorry." He closed his eyes and composed his expression then looked at her again. "I believe I was asking if it was okay to make love to you."

_I'm already dead. This is heaven.__  
_  
"H-mm," she said, nodding since even the word "yes" seemed too much of a challenge right now.

He smiled and kissed her gently, then stroked the thigh that curved around his hip, and pressed forward, pushing slowly, but steadily inside her.

Chloe pressed her eyes closed, crying out at the sudden sensation of being filled by him. Instantly, Obi-Wan froze.

"Am I hurting you?" His voice was strained.

She shook her head quickly. "No. Don't stop." But he didn't move.

"Please…" she implored, wrapping both legs around him in an attempt to pull him deeper. Opening her eyes, she watched his pupils dilate, his face tense in concentration as he moved forward again, and then back, slowly thrusting in and out. Chloe moaned at the exquisite friction and rocked her hips against his, a delicious tension winding rapidly within her.

Open-mouthed, their lips met and lingered together, the sensation of being so close to him stealing Chloe's breath. Her eyes fluttered closed; her head fell back. Breath ragged in her ear, his hands slid up her thighs to cup her bottom, calloused fingers pulling her closer with each thrust. Together their movements quickened, and Chloe's pleasure built, faster and more intensely than she had ever felt before.

Higher and higher she climbed, clinging to him, lost in herself, but suddenly he was there with her, wrapped around her mind, whispering for her to come for him, now.

Her body responded instantly; her orgasm slammed into her like a wall, wave upon wave crashing over her, and she cried out his name, unable to stop herself, unable to think. Only a moment later she felt his body tense. Prying open her eyes, she watched his beautiful face relax, bliss washing over his features as finally, he let go, his hips bucking wildly against hers as his own climax hit.

Chloe let her heavy eyelids fall closed, smiling sleepily as his weight slumped against her.

Slowly, the aftershocks ebbed away, and time lost its meaning he held her close, whispering things she couldn't quite hear. Eventually, she began to regain normal consciousness, and he shifted them both and held her in the crook of his arm, fingers tracing the tears forced out by the sheer immensity of the experience.

He smiled down at her. "Okay?"

Through blurred vision, she smiled back. She very nearly laughed. _Okay_ wasn't exactly the word she would use to describe how she was feeling… or what she had just experienced. She wasn't sure if it would even fit into words.

She closed her eyes and snuggled into his warmth, trying to be content, trying not to worry.

Because of one thing she was now certain.

This was no crush.


	11. Downtime

**A/N: Thanks so much everyone for the reviews and PMs! I have managed to write ahead so I'll hopefully be faster updating for the next few chapters. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

* * *

Obi-Wan's injury was more serious than he had led Chloe to believe; sufficiently serious to keep him off active duty until his assigned healer was satisfied with his recovery.

"It's intolerable." Obi-Wan chased a large piece of Dex's special nerfsteak around his plate, finally spearing it with a stab of his fork. "The Republic forces are stretched, to breaking point. Every Jedi we remove from the field could mean the difference between victory and failure."

Chloe put the welfare of the galaxy aside for a moment and silently thanked the healers for being so fastidious. She shook her head. "I bet you're a terrible patient."

Obi-Wan pulled a sarcastic face and continued to eat: Chloe propped her chin on her hand and watched him, trying not to smile too much. This had become something of a routine, over the past week or so since Obi-Wan's return. They would duck out of the temple as soon as Obi-Wan had finished his scheduled campaign meetings, healer appointments and training sessions with Anakin, grab some food here at Dex's and then head over to Chloe's apartment. Obi-Wan always left at first light, refusing to wake her if she was asleep, but until then, he was all hers.

Now, in the late afternoon, the diner was nearly empty. Behind the counter at the opposite end of the room, Dex polished glasses and whistled cheerily.

Far too cheerily. He'd already winked at her three times in the half hour they'd been in here. Chloe had been delighted, although surprised, to find Dex and Obi-Wan were old acquaintances. But it seemed that Dex had a more interesting past than she might have suspected, and although she had not been privy to the details, the history he had shared with Obi-Wan had led to both friendship and mutual respect. Dex had apparently been equally delighted to discover Chloe and Obi-Wan's involvement. In fact he'd guessed the truth after their very first visit. Chloe's happiness had bubbled over into a grin before she'd had chance to deny it.

"Hey, Miss Daydreamer." Obi-Wan's gentle voice interrupted her thoughts. His grumpy mood seemed to have lifted.

"Hmm?"

"I have something for you." He reached into his robe and pulled out a long white envelope.

Chloe took it cautiously and turned it over in her hands. The front side was blank and the envelope itself unsealed, the flap tucked inside but not stuck down. Paper documents and their associated paraphernalia were quite a novelty. What could it be?

"Open it," Obi-Wan said, sitting back in his seat.

Chloe un-tucked the flap on the envelope and slid out the folded card inside. The front was marked with a small silver crest: a shield divided into four sections, containing illustrations of a lake, a mountain range, a twisted tree, and then in the final section, two rings linked together above an ornate crown.

Inside the card were two identical sheets of translucent flimsy, each printed with a smaller version of the crest, a serial number, and a date which Chloe recognised immediately as the beginning of one of the Core Worlds' public holidays: the Festival of Stars. Below was a line of text in a language Chloe didn't understand. But she did recognise the two names printed at the bottom of each sheet, and the message written in ink on the inside of the card.

_Breha is already looking forward to welcoming you to our home._

_Sincerely,_

_Bail_

So that meant_ Breha_, as in Queen Breha Organa.

And_ Bail_ as in Prince Bail Organa, galactic senator and head of the Royal House of Alderaan.

Bail was a famous diplomatic figure, but Chloe knew a little more about him than the average inhabitant of Coruscant might. Four years ago, he'd been entangled in a passionate, if brief liaison with a certain Matty Jaks, the red-haired, mischievous journalism student who had been, and still was, Chloe's best friend. It was before his marriage to Breha, of course; flirtatious as she was, Matty was principled enough to steer clear of married men. Now, remembering her friends' affair, Chloe realised what the sheets of flimsy might be.

She glanced up. Obi-Wan was studying her. "You know sometimes I wish I really could read your thoughts," he said. "The expressions passing across your face are fascinating." He pointed a finger in the direction of the flimsy sheets Chloe was still holding. "Do you know what they are?"

"Tickets? To an event on Alderaan?"

"Yes. The Royal Winter Solstice Ball."

Wow. Her guess had been right. "But isn't it a bit… exclusive?"

That was an understatement. It was _notoriously_ exclusive. Senator Organa's point-blank refusal to take Matty had been one factor in their split.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know. Bail sends me tickets every year but I've never attended. I was under the impression it's part of their winter festival. Don't you want to go?"

"With you?"

Obi-Wan's lips tweaked in amusement. "Well, that was the intention… although if you'd prefer to go with someone else…"

He seemed so casual about it. But the implicit assumption that they would still be together in four month's time was more than she had let herself hope.

"Would I have to dance?"

"Quite possibly."

"Are you sure you want to risk irreparable injury to your toes and shins?"

Obi-Wan reached across the table to touch her hand. "I'll take my chances."

Chloe instinctively meshed her fingers with his. "Okay then."

Obi-Wan frowned. "You don't sound very enthusiastic."

Chloe felt herself beginning to blush. "Sorry. I'm just not very good at being… gracious. It sounds nice. Very… romantic."

She hadn't quite intended to say that. Her cheeks were burning now.

Obi-Wan smiled. "Good." His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, triggering tingles in other, more intimate parts of her body. It was ridiculous that he still had this effect on her, but, if anything, she seemed to be getting more sensitive to him, not less. "You keep hold of them," he continued, "don't let me forget about I, and don't let me find an excuse not to go."

Chloe nodded. It was reassuring to know he actually wanted to set aside time to spend with her, especially since he spent everyday grumbling about getting away from Coruscant and back to the battlefield.

The ensuing moment of silence was broken abruptly by a loud 'ahem.'

Startled, Chloe jerked her hand away from Obi-Wan's. But it was only Dex. Chloe smiled, first in relief and then bemusement as, with a proud and elaborate sweep of his arm, the diner's proprietor deposited a large silver dish onto their table.

Chloe found herself confronted by a mountain of candied fruit, covered by a snow cap of cream and topped artfully, if not altogether tastefully, by lake of red sweetberry sauce shaped like a heart. Two spluttering sparklers completed the dish, and scattered sparks all over the surface of the table, melting little indentations into the plastic wherever they landed.

Dex beamed down at them. "Lovebird's special. New recipe. On the house, of course."

Chloe first instinct was to groan and hide behind her hand, but the genuine happiness and enthusiasm on Dex's face was difficult to resist. She grinned back at him, and only flinched for a moment when a spark landed on her forearm. "Thanks Dex."

"My pleasure." Dex patted Obi-Wan heartily on the arm before starting back towards the kitchen. "Nothin' too good for my two favourite customers."

When he was safely out of range, Chloe frowned at the dessert, imagining the fat being transferred directly to the bits of her body that were already quite sufficiently well-padded.

Obi-Wan caught her eye and winked. "Better eat some. It's not a good idea to offend Dex."

With a sigh, Chloe dipped her spoon into the mound of cream and took a delicate mouthful. Obi-Wan chuckled and dug in, unearthing a huge, candied muja fruit, syrupy enough to keep a small child on a sugar high for a week.

Chloe watched Obi-Wan bite into the fruit, and wipe away the trickle of sticky juice that ran down his chin. Thoughtfully, she swirled her spoon around in the cream then took a small, seductive lick.

"We could always ask for it to go," she said. "I'm sure we could have more fun with this at my place."

Obi-Wan eyes lingered on her mouth, before a particularly delicious and wicked smile spread across his face.

"Hold that thought." He turned in his seat. "Dex, you old rascal! Get back out here!"

* * *

Later that evening, balancing a mug of tea in her hands, Chloe settled into the corner of her battered sofa and stretched her legs out along the length of the seat. Obi-Wan finished tucking a towel around his waist before sitting down at the other end of the sofa, resting his arm along the back.

"Your neighbour?" he said, combing a hand through his wet hair.

"That's right. Orik Anderson. He was a year older than me, he lived two doors down and I'd been in love with him for three years." Chloe shook her head. "Three years, and he had no idea. But before I left for college, I finally plucked up enough courage to do something about it."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did it – _he_ – live up to your expectations?"

Chloe took a long, slow sip of her tea before replying. "Of course not. It was quick, and uncomfortable, and hugely embarrassing, and I never spoke to him again. But that's how it's supposed to be, isn't it?"

"Yes… Of course."

Chloe sighed and poked his towel-clad thigh with her foot. "Don't tell me, _your_ first time was with a beautiful princess, whose exotic world you had just saved from destruction, and afterwards you had to decline her hand in marriage in the name of duty, leaving her heart broken and her sex life ruined for the rest of her days because no one would ever compare to you."

Obi-Wan didn't answer. Instead he looked down, taking Chloe's bare foot in his hands and running his thumb over the bath-softened skin. (Dex's dessert had taken a lot of cleaning off, but the process had proved to be even more enjoyable than getting messy in the first place.)

Chloe sat up straight, slopping tea onto the front of her bathrobe. "No! You're kidding!"

"It wasn't quite like that." Obi-Wan said quietly, without looking up. "At least not the second part. But the first… to a certain extent, yes."

"You're teasing me."

"No, I'm not."

"Then tell me about it."

"I've never told anyone the full story before."

Chloe leaned forward and pushed a pile of datapads out of the way so she could put her mug down on the coffee table. He wasn't going to negotiate his way out of this. "I told you mine. It's only fair."

Obi-Wan looked up, and gave her a small smile. "Okay." He tucked her foot down by the side of his leg. "Her name was Gaia, and yes, she was part of a royal family, so I suppose you could call her a princess."

"I'm listening." Chloe settled into the sofa and hugged her robe around her body as Obi-Wan began his story.

"I was nineteen at the time, still a padawan, when my master and I were assigned a mission to an Outer Rim planet called Jamin. The archives held little information about the place as the whole system had been pristine – unvisited by outsiders - until a Jedi called Dalion Rea had been stranded there. You may have heard of him?"

Chloe shook her head.

"Okay, well, it doesn't matter. Remind me to introduce you to him, though, I think you'd like him. Anyway, the Jamini treated him for the severe injuries he suffered crash-landing his ship, and he was able to observe a little of their culture during his time recuperating. Dalion, noticing the richness of natural resources and the delicacy of the ecosystem on the planet, was concerned that they were vulnerable to outside attack. He persuaded their queen to let him leave behind an emergency beacon containing a small message transponder so they could contact the Jedi if they ever needed help.

"A couple of decades later, Dalion's fears were confirmed. A random prosecting probe must have surveyed the planet and identified a plant-source of spice there, because a group of prospectors arrived and started to dig up patches of rainforest. At first the Jamini were reassured by the prospectors' promises that the spice could be extracted without damage, but when it became clear that this was not the case, the Jamini queen approved the use of the beacon to ask for our help.

"We left assuming it would be a quick job: dispatch the prospectors, whose activities were illegal, and help repair the damage as best we could, perhaps training the Jamini in tactics to deter future attacks. I was looking forward to exploring a little of the planet – Dalion Rea had described it as breathtakingly beautiful – but given one other detail in Dalion's report, I suspect my master had something other than flora and fauna on his mind." Obi-Wan paused, and scratched the stubble on his jaw.

Impatiently, Chloe shifted in her seat. "What something?"

There was a hint of self-consciousness in Obi-Wan's reply. "He called it my _reluctance to harmonise with the Living Force_."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, that I was nineteen, that I was still a virgin, and that I had absolutely no intention of ever being anything else."

"Really?"

"Yes. In fact you might have considered me something of a prude."

Chloe smiled. She'd seen a couple of holos, formal portraits of the tall, bearded and apparently genial Master Qui-Gon Jinn together with a very serious-looking young Padawan Kenobi. But still, given the Obi-Wan she knew, it was a bit of a stretch to go from serious to _prudish_…

"And he wasn't a prude, your master?"

Obi-Wan laughed. "No, not at all."

"What was so bad about the idea of sex?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I can't really remember my reasoning. I was pompous and opinionated and I'd read too many books. I had a very clear image in my mind of what a Jedi should and shouldn't do, and I fear that I though indulging in pleasures of the flesh was somehow beneath us… beneath me. What a bore, eh?"

"I bet you were still hot."

"Pardon?"

"Erm, nothing, never mind." Chloe wrapped her arms around her body, horrified that the errant thought had somehow managed to make it out of her mouth. "C-carry on. What was so special about this place?"

"Wait there, just a moment…" Obi-Wan got up and crossed the living area to Chloe's bedroom.

She watching him walk away, savouring the view of his body with only a white bath towel tucked around his hips, half-expecting him to reappear fully dressed; there lay a fine line between the Jedi master who insisted everything was done properly, and the man who was happy to let her smear dessert cream over his naked skin. Happily, Obi-Wan emerged from her room still wearing only the towel, carrying the quilted comforter she always kept slung across the bottom of her bed.

"You looked cold," he explained, kissing the top of her head then laying the comforter over her legs.

Chloe opened her mouth to protest but realised that, although he might have mistaken the real reason for her body language, he was actually correct. The large patch of spilled tea had soaking right through to her skin beneath and she was starting to feel chilly.

Obi-Wan noticed her squinting down at the robe and grinned. "I'd suggest you take it off," he said, resuming his previous position at the other end of the sofa, but this time under the quilt. "But I might get distracted."

It was difficult to resist the temptation to shrug of her robe, snuggle up next to him and see just how distracting she could be, but the prospect of hearing Obi-Wan's story was just about enough motivation to be good and stay where she was. "Okay," she said, tucking the quilt around her legs. "I'm listening."

"You asked what was special about Jamin," Obi-Wan began. "Well, as we flew in on a landing trajectory, it was clear that Dalion had been correct in his praise; it was indeed a place of extraordinary beauty." Obi-Wan's eyes focused in the distance as he recalled the setting. "There was a turquoise ocean fringed by a thin strip of black-sanded beach, with dense vegetation behind, covering the foothills of a huge, volcanic mountain range. Beyond that lay thick forest, and, as we lost height, the mass of deep green turned out to be dappled with intriguing patches of intense colour – yellows, reds, oranges, blues, violets. Overall, it was a world ripe for exploration, with idyllic scenery, intriguing life forms and an apparently agreeable climate. The kind of place you dreamt of being stranded. Dalion Rea had been a lucky man all those years before.

"But, I digress. In fact it was not the scenery but something else that made the planet particularly special – perhaps unique. Something about the population, the Jamini themselves. As Dalion reported, they were humanoid, and of human origin, but their evolution had taken an interesting course. They reproduced asexually."

Chloe frowned. "Asexually as in without sex? How?"

"Yes. It was, apparently, a natural process, although the detail of exactly how they reproduced was considered sacred. Only members the royal family were allowed access to the holy temple, known as the _Kwa Song, _meaning _Tree of Life_. We assumed there was some mechanism by which they deposited genetic material there. All we knew for certain was that newborn Jamini were brought from the temple as infants, and that the females did not carry or give birth to children in the normal way."

"So they were clones?" Chloe was busy trying to recall long-distant biology studies.

"Presumably, although not as identical as the engineered clones we are used to."

"And what did this have to do with your master wanting to improve your Force harmony, or whatever-you-call-it?"

"Well, because of their unique reproductive status, the Jamini also had a rather unique attitude to sex."

"Erm… they didn't need it?"

"No, or rather, it wasn't necessary to their survival, but they didn't abstain from it either. They considered it something akin to a… recreational activity. And in certain circumstances it was considered disrespectful to refuse an invitation. "

Chloe grinned. "And so you were forced to participate and surrender your virginity, just to be polite?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm afraid I risked the status of our mission by refusing an invitation from the queen herself."

For a moment Chloe wished she could travel back in time and meet this young version of him; there was something charmingly chivalrous about a man refusing sex as a matter of principle. Especially if that man was Obi-Wan. She felt a pang of envy towards the woman who managed to persuade him to change his mind.

"But what of this princess..? Chloe asked. "What was she called again? Did she proposition you too?"

"Gaia," Obi-Wan said, with a sadness that gave Chloe the impression this particular princess was not to be envied after all. "And no, not exactly, or at least not in the normal way. It happened some time later, after we found out what was really happening on Jamin."

"Sorry." Chloe curled into the sofa, resting her chin on her knees. "I'll stop interrupting."

"It's okay," Obi-Wan said. "Am I boring you?"

"No, no." Chloe shook her head. After all, listening to Obi-Wan reading out the Coruscant Holonet Directory would be interesting, as long as he was doing it half-naked from the other end of her sofa.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing! Now stop delaying and get on with it."

"Yes ma'am." Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts before he continued.


	12. Gaia

**A/N: So here we go, more of Obi-Wan's story, told as a flashback in Obi-Wan's point of view so we don't get distracted by Chloe's interruptions (and tangled in a mess of quotation marks!).**

**Oh, and yes, Matty's still off on assignment, so she won't interrupt Chloe and Obi-Wan, although she is set to meet Obi-Wan later in the fic.**

**Thanks for continuing to read and review, I really wanted to make this a double chapter post but the next one still isn't edited and I need some sleep, so apologies for the cliffhanger ending (again!).  
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**Chapter Twelve**

Gaia

After Obi-Wan had nearly got himself and his master thrown off planet for offending the queen – in a matriarchal society where the women were used to being obeyed, refusing her, of all people, was considered doubly offensive – Qui-Gon stepped in to take his place and that appeared to placate the queen enough to let them stay. He was much closer in age to the queen, and Obi-Wan hadn't really understood why she was more interested in him than his master in the first place.

The two Jedi quickly set out to make contact with the prospectors. Unusually, Obi-Wan thought, they were a wily lot and, as was their right, demanded a written eviction decree from the senate. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan agreed, on the condition that the excavation works halted immediately. Past experience told the Jedi that if the senate took longer than a week or so, the prospectors would start to lose money and in all likelihood start excavating again. Then it would be a simple matter to evict them by force for breach of treaty.

In the mean time, Qui-Gon welcomed the opportunity to spend a few days exploring the planet. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was impatient to leave. He might have disgraced himself in the eyes of the queen, but that hadn't stopped the advances of the other members of her court, both female and male, and young Padawan Kenobi was still of the opinion that casual sex and Jedi should not mix.

So Obi-Wan took to slipping away after dinner, before the Jamini could get too insistent. In daylight hours the invitations to the "couplings," as they were known - although in fact there was no restriction to two participants - tended to be conservative, and in their own way, Obi-Wan thought, quite charming: hand-written notes, purposefully-dropped handkerchiefs, over-the-shoulder smiles. But once it was dark, once the wine had been flowing for a couple of hours, the whole process degenerated into something more bawdy. Fortunately, everyone was usually too intoxicated by then to notice or care about Obi-Wan's absence.

On one such evening he was walking through the palace gardens, looking for a quiet place to meditate. The air was perfectly still, and scented with a combination of the the light, fresh fragrance of the forest - which lay beyond a rusting gate at the very end of the garden – and the herbs bordering the path on which he was walking. Turning a corner, he noticed a young woman at the opposite side of the garden. She was seated on a bench beneath an arch of white flowers, and Obi-Wan recognised her immediately as Gaia, one of the royal sisters. Although the womenfolk were all of similar appearance, the royal family were all distinguished by a delicate, dark brown web-like pattern extending over the left-hand side of their bodies, or at least the parts of their bodies he had seen.

She was mesmerising.

They were very pale, the Jamini, and Gaia's skin was a translucent, almost greenish white in the moonlight. It was a strange sort of beauty, he thought: delicate, only barely human. The women usually wore their hair tied or twisted into elaborate styles, but that night, Gaia's long curls, as dark as the shadowed forest that rose above the wall behind her, fell loosely to her waist, reminding Obi-Wan of the twisted vines he and his master had hacked through on the trek from the landing site to the city.

Although it was her appearance that first caught Obi-Wan's attention, it was her state of mind that held it. In the palace she had been in the background, and he only noticed her because of the large pendant she wore at her throat. The deep green stone set at its centre was reminiscent of the Adega crystals used in lightsaber construction. Other than that, Obi-Wan remembered she always seemed to be smiling, and often laughing, just like the rest of the Jamini.

But now, alone, she looked forlorn, sad, and fragile.

Obi-Wan felt it too, radiating from her in the Force: a deep, hopeless melancholy. What could be responsible for making her feel that way? He could only assume she must be worried about the damage the prospectors were doing to the forest.

Eventually, she looked up and noticed Obi-Wan staring at her, as he had been doing for at least the past five minutes. Hastily, he apologised, and turned to leave, but she called him back, addressing him by his name, and then speaking, to his great surprise, in Basic.

"Please stay," she said, extending an arm towards him. When he hesitated, still intrigued by her, but ready to deny another invitation, she smiled a little, and reassured him she only wanted to talk.

Cautiously, he joined her on the bench, and asked how she had learned the language of the Core Worlds. The two Jedi had relied on a protocol droid to communicate with the Jamini up until that point, assuming the planet's population had no reason to know – no exposure at all – to Basic. But Gaia told Obi-Wan she had found some data pads in their library, left behind by Dalion Rea, and she had taken every opportunity to study the information they contained, learning about the languages, customs and society of systems at the centre of the Republic. She would be fascinated, she said, to learn more from the Jedi while they were on Jamin.

Seating beneath the arch of flowers, they spoke for a long time about Coruscant, and about the Jedi. Gaia had many questions, although she struggled a little when her grasp of the language faltered. She told Obi-Wan how occasionally, she stole away from the evening activities, to study or lose herself in thought, or just in dreams of places beyond her planet. It was only when she eventually fell silent that Obi-Wan remembered her earlier sadness; the Force sensation of melancholy had almost entirely disappeared during their conversation. He told her of his and Qui-Gon's experience with similar matters on other systems, and reassured her that the prospectors would be gone in a few days.

"There is much you do not know about us," she said, quietly, placing her hand over Obi-Wan's. Her skin was cold, he noticed, much colder than the air, colder than the stone bench they were seated on. Obi-Wan asked _what_, what was it that he did not now, but Gaia removed her hand and remained silent. He sensed the conversation was over, so he wished her a good night, and left.

The following evening he visited the garden again, hoping she would be there, hoping she would tell him more. And he found her, seated in the same place, waiting for him. Again she asked him to stay, and this time encouraged him to tell her about some of the other worlds he had visited. But first Obi-Wan persuaded her to tell him a little about Jamin, for it was as fascinating to him as the rest of the galaxy was to her. So Gaia told him about her upbringing in the palace, about the beliefs and customs of the Jamini, and she told him the names of the plants in the palace gardens, and of the forest vines that curled just like her hair. Obi-Wan commented on the colourful patches amidst the trees he had noticed on the flight in, asking why none of the coloured vegetation was visible from the forest floor.

"The colours _are_ the forest," Gaia said. He waited for her to continue, but she remained silent for a long time. Eventually, just as she had the previous night, she reached for his hand. "The knowledge is sacred. I could be punished for telling you."

But she looked at him with a sort of desperation, as if she _wanted_ to tell him more, and so he closed his hand over hers, and urged her to continue, promising he would keep the information to himself.

"The forest is flowering," she said. "It happens once in several lifetimes. When the flowers fade, the forest dies."

"All of it?"

"All of it," she repeated, quietly, and Obi-Wan felt a shiver run through her body. "Then it will grow again, stronger than before."

He asked what caused the flowering, whether the prospectors could have triggered it.

"Perhaps. It is a sign of other changes that are not expected yet."

Obi-Wan didn't understand what she meant, but she would say no more, and she quickly changed the subject back to his previous missions. But Obi-Wan sensed there was something much deeper and more mysterious about the forest of Jamin, and that the blossoming was somehow linked to whatever was causing Gaia such distress.

Time passed, and still there was no word from the senate. Every few days, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan would travel by speeder to the edge of the excavation site, and carry out covert surveillance of the prospectors, hoping to find evidence that they had started digging again. But they found none.

Then, rumours of strange happenings began circulating the forest city.

A group of Jamini, gathering berries in the forest, were cornered and attached by wild dog-like creatures usually considered docile and almost tame. A man went missing on the way back from a late night tryst with his lover, and no one was able to find any trace of him. Then there was a murder: almost unheard of among the Jamini. Another man – a nobleman, a member of the court - had flown into a rage and killed his neighbour. He was held captive in the palace basement, while the Royal Council debated how he should be punished. Two days later he was discovered dead in his cell. No cause of death could be found.

Every night, Obi-Wan continued to meet Gaia in the gardens, and they would talk until just before dawn. Obi-Wan began to regret that his knowledge of great art, literature and poetry was poor; he felt there was relatively little he could teach her. Nor could he tell her much about the day-to-day life of families in the Core worlds; in many ways his upbringing in the temple had been as strange as hers. When distracted from whatever was troubling her, Gaia was lively and talkative. She laughed with him at the embarrassment he had caused by refusing the queen, and she teased him about his principles, and the passionless life he envisioned for himself as a Jedi. To the Jamini, love and lust, and sexual liasons were a social activity, as entertaining and pleasurable as eating or drinking or playing games. Gaia could not understand why he would want to abstain from them entirely.

But occasionally, Obi-Wan would catch, her lost in thought, staring into the distance, and the feeling of melancholy would deepen. He secretly wondered if she would ask to go with him and Qui-Gon when they left. Fearing that she would, he worried about how he would let her down; the queen seemed unlikely to approve of Gaia leaving, and as a Jedi he could not take her against the queen's will if Gaia's safety was not threatened. He tried to probe gently, to get her to reveal the reason for her sadness, but she seemed unwilling, or too scared, to say any more.

Then, one day, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had just finished their regular weekly session with the queen, reporting on their latest surveillance mission, which had still failed to find any breach of treaty by the prospectors. Exiting the throne room, they were making their way back to their quarters, when they were passed by a girl being hurried along the corridor by a group of palace servants. Both Jedi could both sense the girl was in pain, and Qui-Gon stopped the group of women, offering to help. The servants tried to hide her from view, but the Obi-Wan saw her belly before it was covered. Looking up, he saw the shock on Qui-Gon's face, and knew his master must have noticed the same thing. It was something on the one hand so natural, and yet, for the Jamini, completely alien: the girl was quite clearly pregnant.

The baby was born that night, far too early, and he did not survive. The next day Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were ordered by the queen's secretary to keep their knowledge a secret; the people were already fearful, and the queen did not want to aggravate them further. Qui-Gon was suspicious that the forest and the Jamini themselves were linked in some way, and he was worried that the damage the prospectors had done might somehow be affecting the Jamini. Obi-Wan agreed, but kept Gaia's confidence and did not reveal what she had said about the blossoming of the forest. Qui-Gon was convinced the prospectors were managing to continue to excavate in secrecy, and decided it was too dangerous to wait for the senate any longer; they could go in and remove the prospectors, by force if necessary.

Over the next few days there were more deaths – all men - and rumours started circulating the palace of more women showing signs of pregnancy. The Jedi travelled again to the prospectors' site to carry out the eviction, but to their surprise found the prospectors had already left. The transmitters attached to their transports showed signals from beyond planetary orbit. The Jedi even carried out an aerial survey of the planet's surface, but found no trace of them. What Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice, though, was that almost all the forest was in now blossom.

On their return, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went directly to the queen to inform her of their imminent departure. With the prospectors gone, their mission was formally complete. For a planet left in ecological distress the normal procedure would be for the Jedi to request follow-up aid from one of Coruscant's specialist agencies.

Obi-Wan was already saddened at the thought of leaving Gaia; they had grown close through their evening conversations, closer than he should probably have allowed, and now the idea of abandoning her without ever knowing the true cause of her sadness seemed like a betrayal of this new friendship. She always felt so delicate, and so cold when she held his hand, as if she needed his warmth to comfort her. As if she needed his protection.

So the Jedi made their report to the Jedi Council, and were continuing with preparations for departure when the queen summoned them again. As they made their way through the long, high-ceilinged passage to the throne room, Qui-Gon joked that perhaps the queen wanted to give Obi-Wan a chance to redeem himself by accepting her invitation. He laughed about it, but still secretly hoped Qui-Gon was not right. It would be difficult to refuse a second invitation. The queen could be considered beautiful, as Jamini women were, but she was so much older than Obi-Wan, and rather intimidating. To be completely honest he wasn't physically attracted to her at all. He was attracted to someone else of course, to the girl who he had been spending all his evenings with, but at that point he had no intention of acting upon it.

Obi-Wan's brief but unusually self-centered thoughts were interrupted when he and Qui-Gon entered the throne room and found the entire Jamini Royal Council – all ten female elders of the royal family - waiting for them. Seated to one side, and slightly behind, was Gaia. Immediately, Obi-Wan was worried that she was in trouble, that somehow the queen or the council had learned Gaia had revealed sacred information. He tried to make eye contact with her but she would not look at him.

Meanwhile, all the servants had shuffled out of the throne room. One council member checked the windows were shut and another locked the doors from the inside. There was a distinct tension in the room, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were both wary. The two Jedi both had their hands on their lightsaber hilts when the queen stepped down from the dais on which her throne was positioned, and walked towards them.

Via the Jedi's translation droid, the queen informed them that the Jamini still needed their help. Then she asked Qui-Gon to promise that what she was about to say would be held secret while the Jedi remained on Jamin.

He agreed, and she returned to her throne, then nodded for Gaia to come forward. Qui-Gon was aware of her language skills - he knew Obi-Wan had spoken with her, although not the full extent of their conversations - so he wasn't surprised when she addressed them in Basic.

"They want me to speak to you," she said, her delicate voice barely audible in the large room, "because the information is sacred." She glanced, pointedly, to the droid. Obi-Wan exchanged a glance with Qui-Gon. He understood. The Jamini were afraid the conversation might be recorded. Obi-Wan nodded to Gaia, and deactivated the droid.

Then the queen spoke again. Gaia watched nervously, fiddling with the silver chain of her pendant, before taking her turn to speak.

"I am to tell you exactly what she says," she explained. "Not a word more."

Obi-Wan wished he could smile, or send her some sign of encouragement. But all eyes were focused on him and Qui-Gon. He couldn't risk the Jamini Council's distrust at this delicate moment.

The queen began speaking again, and Gaia translated. "You know something of our normal process of reproduction," she said. "But every two hundred seasons, our womenfolk undergo _Yan Mekar_." She turned her eyes to Obi-Wan's. "It means _The Blossoming." _

As the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together, and Obi-Wan remembered the story of the blossoming forest, his mouth went dry. But he tried to clear his mind and pay close attention, because the queen was continuing to speak, and Gaia to translate.

"Those women who are fertile, and who have had the opportunity to be fertilised, become pregnant. It happens in synchrony. The girl you saw a few days ago was the first, but soon there will be many more. The affected women need to travel to the refuge to bear their children safely. It is in the mountains, three days' travel from here. The route is sacred, held in the temple records and passed down through the royal line. Our records show the journey should be simple. Unfortunately, this time, we have a problem. The forest is unsafe."

"The prospectors," Qui-Gon interrupted. "Did their intrusion trigger this?"

Gaia translated his question. The queen nodded and replied. "We fear so," said Gaia. "The blossoming is not expected for another five or six seasons. Our lives are coupled with the forest. Never before in our history has it been considered a dangerous place, but now it appears to have turned against us. Perhaps our bodies are attempting the blossoming now, before the danger increases. In any case, Master Jinn, we need your help to escort the fertilised women to the refuge at the beginning of the next moon cycle."

That was in eleven days' time. Qui-Gon bowed his head. "Then, of course, your Majesty, we will escort them, and do whatever we can to protect them."

His words were relayed back, and the tension in the room eased a little. But as Gaia translated the queen's reminder that this should be kept secret, Obi-Wan was worried. He was certain there was more to this, more than they were telling us. He had one very strong suspicion of what the truth might be, but he could not reveal it to Qui-Gon without breaching Gaia's confidence. There was only one person he could ask.

But, that night, Gaia was not in her usual place beneath the flower arch. Obi-Wan waited for an hour. Then he walked around the gardens for another hour, hoping she would appear. Finally, he returned to his room, shutting his windows against the warm night air, against the usual sounds of revelry coming from the banqueting hall, and against the rather more intimate sounds coming from his master's room next door. The queen no longer seemed interested in Qui-Gon, but another royal sister, another elder considered by many to be the most beautiful woman in court, had been his night-time companion for the past week.

Later that night, Obi-Wan awoke in the process of drawing my lightsaber, alert and ready to attack the intruder he had sensed in his sleep. But he recognised Gaia's little cry of shock immediately, and there she was by the door, her pale face illuminated by the blue glow from my saber blade.

"Are your windows and doors locked?" she whispered, crossing the room.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, sitting up and placing his saber hilt back on the bedside table. "I waited for you."

Gaia drew the curtains, and the room was thrown into complete darkness. After a moment, the bed sagged as she sat down next to him. "It was too dangerous to meet there. I should not even be here."

"Is it inconceivable that I might have invited you for something other than conversation?" Obi-Wan kept his voice light, trying to lift both his own mood and hers.

Gaia laughed weakly. "Probably. I think you might have finally convinced everyone you are not available. No-one would believe us."

Obi-Wan shivered when she touched his hand. Unthinking, he reached for her in the dark, and pulled her cold body against his, drawing the blankets up around them both. She relaxed against him, and rested her head against his cheek.

"You want to know the truth," she said.

"Yes," he replied.

So she told him. She told him everything.


	13. The Blossoming

Another chapter for you, thanks once again for commenting everyone, it's nice to know people are still reading this. This chapter continues right on from the end of Chapter 12, and concludes Obi-Wan's little story. The next chapter will mark the beginning of a new phase of Obi-Wan and Chloe's story.

If anyone is interested, the story of the Blossoming was inspired by the flowering of the Bamboo forests in Yunnan province, China.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

The Blossoming

Obi-Wan paused and then yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

"And…?_"_ Chloe sat up. "What did she tell you?"

"Patience, patience…" Obi-Wan smiled, but it was a wistful, sad smile. He rubbed his forehead with the finger and thumb of one hand, then got up and crossed to the apartment's kitchen. "Would you like another drink?"

"No thanks," Chloe said, wriggling to get comfortable on the sofa.

When Obi-Wan returned with a glass of water she shuffled over to him, dragging the quilt with her. He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm cold."

Obi-Wan took a few gulps of water and placed the glass on the table. "Hmm. Okay. But don't distract me. I'm not going through this whole story again."

"Promise. I want to know how this ends." She snuggled into his chest. He wrapped an arm, outside the quilt, around her body, and then continued.

"Inevitably, the end of the moon cycle approached. Over the final two days, all women were summoned to the palace to give a sample of their blood. The official reason was to test for disease or contamination caused by the prospectors. In reality the blood was tested for pregnancy hormones. All those women who tested positive were instructed to report to the palace at noon on the first day of the new cycle. Only those who were pregnant would be allowed to make the journey to the refuge.

"On the final evening, I found Gaia in her usual place in the garden. She didn't look up at me, just down to where my hand rested on my knee. She placed her hand over it. Her fingers seemed so thin, so much smaller than mine, and so much paler. With my other hand I turned her face towards me, forcing her to meet my eyes. But my throat was dry. I couldn't ask her the question I needed to.

"I didn't need to ask. She answered before I had chance to speak, with a shake of her head. Then she removed my hand from her face. 'Please don't look at me like that,' she said, resting her head against my shoulder. 'There is cause for great celebration. The queen is with child. We had feared she was too old to conceive.'

"But I didn't care, at that point, what state the wretched queen was in. I was too preoccupied with the unfairness of Gaia's situation, and the knowledge that it was partially, if not entirely, my fault. If I hadn't filled her evenings with my pointless chatter, if I hadn't used her to escape something I was too stubborn to accept as a natural part of the Jamini's existence, she might have been pregnant."

Obi-Wan kissed the top of Chloe's head. When he continued, his voice was softer.

"Because, you see, the sting in the tail of this story, the terrible secret that the royal family had to conceal from the rest of the population, was that the blossoming of the Jamini was not just superficially similar to the blossoming of the forest."

"They were synchronised?" Chloe said.

"Yes. The forest always blossomed first. After the blossoming, the forest died. And after their blossoming…"

Chloe looked up at him. "The Jamini_ died?_"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Those women fortunate enough to become pregnant survived to care for their babies, but all the men, together with the unfertilised women, died. Cruelly, it was the forest itself that was responsible. Even when Qui-Gon and I arrived, the pollen from the blossom was already starting to poison them. Pregnant women became immune upon conception. But, as Gaia had explained that night in my room, within the first week of the new moon, everyone else would be returned, spiritually and corporally, to the forest.

"With the forest in a state of rapid decay, the bodies would quickly disintegrate, ready to fertilise the soil as the forest re-grew. And when the women emerged from the refuge with their children, the new forest would be there to provide them with food and shelter."

"But what about the rest of the population…" Chloe interrupted. "Were they just left to die?"

"Yes, and they could not even expect a dignified death. A sort of madness would take hold of them during the twenty-four hours before the end. The effect was particularly pronounced in men, and in the chaos some of the population would probably be killed before they could die naturally.

"It's easy to see why the pregnant women needed to be taken away to safety in such a situation. I could see the logic, but the idea that the others in the population were considered worthless, and were simply left to die, was difficult to accept. And the prospect of the fate that awaited Gaia, who seemed so fragile and yet so full of life, and whom I felt an almost overwhelming urge to protect… well, it was unbearable."

Chloe snuggled more tightly against Obi-Wan's chest, feeling a strange sort of kinship with this girl from his past. What had he done? Had he fought for her? He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, after all, wasn't he? A legendary Jedi. Surely he would have found a way to save her?

"So what did you do?"

"On the evening before I was expected to escort the women to the refuge, I sat there with Gaia in the garden, held her in my arms and stroked her hair. And then, I'm ashamed to say, I did something that went against all of my training.

"I told her that I wouldn't leave her. I told her I would stay with her to the end, or, if she wanted me to, I would take her way, right then, into orbit, hoping that the effects of the blossom would be reversible when she was removed from the forest. I would save her."

Chloe remained silent, wondering how Obi-Wan could be ashamed of just acting as any decent man in his situation would.

"It was her," he continued, "who reminded me how I should be behaving. 'They need you,' she said, 'more than I do. Your duty is to my people, not to me.'

"I protested, but she covered my mouth with her hand. 'No,' she said. 'Don't say it again. I couldn't live with myself if I asked for your help.'

"She was right, of course. After all my arrogance, _she_ was the one reminding _me_ of the principles I had so proudly explained to her. A Jedi should respect the traditions and civilisation of the people whom he is sent to help. A Jedi should not become attached to any single person. A Jedi should not put the welfare of one person above the needs of the many."

"Wasn't she afraid?" Chloe asked.

"She was terrified. I could feel it. But she was also right. The royal women grew up knowing this fate may await them. She had always known her duty would be to stay, if she were not pregnant. I didn't insult her by protesting; it was a courageous enough act to insist I leave her.

"We agreed that, the next day, I would set off as planned with the party of women, and Qui-Gon, to the refuge. But I reassured Gaia that as soon as the mission was complete, I would return to the forest city. If the blossoming had been triggered by the prospectors, who knew if the rest of the process would follow its normal course? There was a chance I would still be able to save her, along with any other surviving members of the population, before it was too late.

"After that, there seemed to be little left to say. It was still the middle of the night; I didn't want to leave her, and yet anything we could talk about seemed trivial considering what she was about to face. But she remained there, her head against my chest, so I continued to hold her, silently. If she needed comfort, tonight, the very least I could do was provide it."

Chloe placed her hand against Obi-Wan's chest, feeling his heart beating, and imagining for a moment that she was in the same situation as Gaia. Imagining that tomorrow, she might die. What would it be like to give him up in the same of duty? And to give up her own life? She was sure she wouldn't be strong enough. She would probably beg him to take her way.

"And that's when it happened," Obi-Wan said. "Later that night."

"What?" Chloe had genuinely forgotten what this story was supposed to be about.

"I asked her if there was anything I could do," Obi-Wan said, not seeming to notice her question. "If there was anything else she wanted. 'There's only one thing I can think of,' she said, 'and it's something you don't want to give.' Then she brushed her finger over my mouth. And…" Obi-Wan hesitated.

"Go on," Chloe whispered, remembering where this was leading, the scene now clear in her head. "Don't stop."

Obi-Wan coughed, and spoke quickly. "She said, 'such a waste that these lips will never be kissed.' "

Chloe smiled at his embarrassment. But Gaia had been right. It would have been a terrible waste.

"Then," Obi-Wan continued, "she turned away and took a handkerchief from her pocket: it was her token of choice to request a sexual liaison. She ripped it in half and tossed it into the herbs behind us. Then she kissed me on the cheek, stood up and walked away.

"I sat there for a while, thinking about everything that had happened on Jamin. Wishing there was someone to tell me what to do. I wanted to follow her. What about everything I thought I believed in? I had looked down on Qui-Gon and his sexual liaisons. But a few minutes ago I had suggested to Gaia that I abandon my mission to save her, going back on some of the core principles of the Jedi Order. In comparison my prudishness seemed pathetic. But who could advise me? Qui-Gon and I had argued about this too much; I didn't feel comfortable going to him.

"Under the circumstances, I could only rely on my instincts. So I scrabbled around in the bushes until I found the torn bits of handkerchief, and then made my way to Gaia's apartments.

"Her door was ajar. I knocked softly, but when there was no reply, went inside. The windows to the terrace were open and I found her there, leaning on the railing looking out over the forest. She had been crying, I think, and she looked up in confusion when she heard me.

" 'What makes you so sure I've never been kissed?' I said, attempting a smile. She shrugged, and smiled back, trying to brush the tears from her cheeks so I wouldn't see them.

"I crossed the terrace to stand by her side, and we both turned to face the forest again. I brushed my fingers against hers. 'When we were fifteen, I said, 'my friend Siri Tachi pinned me down to the sparring room floor and kissed me until I couldn't breathe.'

" 'And that put you off for life?' she asked.

" 'Perhaps. I _was_ mortified.' She had to laugh at that.

"Then I took her hand, and put the torn handkerchief in her palm. I was nervous, because I had no idea what I was doing. But I remembered what she had said in the garden, and I hoped she would forgive my clumsiness. So I kissed her.

"When I pulled away, she asked me if I was sure I wanted this. I said yes, and so she led me inside, to her bedroom, and to her bed.

"So, that was when it happened. I wasn't how I expected at all. I never expected to enjoy it. But she never made me feel awkward for a second. Once she had convinced me to relax, forget her expectations, and rely on my instinct, it felt completely natural. She taught me many things, in that short night, about how my own body could respond to a woman, and how to touch her to give her the pleasure." Obi-Wan paused.

"But wasn't it difficult, with what you knew was to come?" Chloe said.

"I think – or at least I'd like to believe – that it distracted her. Whilst it remained dark outside, we forgot who we were, and focused solely on each other. But once dawn broke, I couldn't help think about the days ahead. She wouldn't let me stop, though. I think she was terrified that we might fall asleep and lose the last few hours we had together.

"Eventually the sun was perilously high in the sky, and it was close to the time I would have to leave. Reluctantly, I dressed, then checked over her rooms, and located a small windowless room off her bedroom that would be the safest place to hide from the potential horrors outside. I went to order food to be brought up from the kitchens, and when I returned she had fallen asleep.

"I had to wake her up to say goodbye. Selfishly, I would not let her get out of the bed. I wanted to remember her like that, her skin flushed with sleep, radiant in the morning light. I made her promise me to secure herself in the safe room with food and water, and wait for me to return. Neither of us mentioned how remote the chance of that happening might be.

"I kissed her one last time. And she thanked me, then, for giving me the gift of sharing my first time with her. 'At least now,' she said, with a small smile, 'you won't forget me.'

"It was only when I rose to leave that she did not let go of my hand. She held it tightly, as if trying to draw on the strength of the connection between us. 'I don't want you to go,' she whispered.

" 'You know I have to,' I said, and kissed her hand.

" 'I'm scared,' she said. She fumbled with her pendant, unclasping it and offering it to me.

I closed her fingers back around it. 'Wait for me,' was all I could think to say. Then, with the clock tower striking noon, I left.

"As agreed, Qui-Gon and I met at the palace gates to await the party of pregnant women. I didn't tell him about the previous night, and if he had noticed my absence he did not mention it. When the women arrived I noticed immediately that all of the royal women, including all the elders, must have managed to conceive. Although she was the oldest by at least ten years, the queen was there too, her neatly-rounded belly already sticking out from her thin body.

"The journey to the refuge was not uneventful. The Jamini had been right in their fears; the forest was no longer safe, without our protection many of the women could quite easily have been injured by the variety dangerous situations we encountered. Wild beasts tracked us for hours, then crept up silently to attack. Thick vines twisted around some of the women when they slept, and held them fast. In one area, deep fissures had opened in the rock of the forest floor, but were concealed by thin layers of foliage and leaves. Without our guidance it would have been easy for women to have fallen to their deaths.

"But we reached the refuge without any casualties. I didn't stay for long enough to examine the place. As soon as the first women began entering the stone archway that appeared to lead right into the centre of the mountain itself, I turned and set off back for forest city, leaving Qui-Gon to protect the women while they settled in.

"I raced back, completing the three-day trek in just under two days, not stopping to eat or rest, drawing on the Force for my strength. When I arrived, the streets of the city were almost deserted, but I barely noticed. I headed straight for the palace, and for her apartment. It had been four days, and Gaia had said the typical time limit for the remaining population was a week. I was convinced there was a chance she might have survived."

"And she had," Chloe interrupted, not wanting to believe what she knew from his voice and his body language must be the real end of the story. "You found her."

Obi-Wan stroked her cheek, and pressed his mouth against her hair. "No."

Chloe looked up at him. "No?"

"I… I searched every room in the palace but I could find no trace of her. Her door had been broken down, and so had the door to the safe room. The sheets of her bed were ripped." He paused and reached for the glass on the table. Chloe moved away so he could sit up, and waited in silence for him to speak again.

"I found her pendant and one of her shoes in the corridor that led to the palace throne room," he continued. "The truth is that I don't know what happened to her. I'll never find out how she died, only that it was almost certainly in fear and pain, knowing that no one was going to come and save her."

Chloe didn't know what to say. It didn't seem right. She had started all this by teasing Obi-Wan, thinking that in comparison to her very ordinary encounter with her neighbour, his first sexual experience would probably be part of a glamorous story of rescue and glory, or some fairytale involving royal princesses and exotic locations. But Gaia's story was far more tragedy than fairytale. And although Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had rescued the pregnant women, this story did not match up with the image of chivalrous knights and damsels in distress. Perhaps she had watched too many holomovies.

"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan said. "You look puzzled."

"It just… well, it just doesn't quite fit with the image I had of you."

"You expected me to have rescued her."

Chloe looked down. Although she didn't want to admit it, if she had been in Gaia's position, she would have wanted Obi-Wan to rescue her.

Obi-Wan reached for her hand. "I'm not a hero, Chloe," he said, gently. "The media like to promote that image, especially now we are at war, but every day I take decisions which condemn some people to death or terrible pain at for the sake of what we consider to be best for the majority. I do what I think is right, but it never makes the decisions any easier."

She looked up. "Welcome to the real world."

"Exactly."

"You think the media misrepresent you?"

"All the time. And we Jedi are guilty of allowing it to continue. It's fine for morale, but I worry what might happen if we fail."

"Lose the war? But we can't! You can't!"

"I assure you we can. And we may. Selling unrealistic impressions of our power will only hurt the long-term prospects of the Jedi Order."

She raised a hand to his cheek, wanting to smooth away the concern in his expression. "You worry too much."

"Someone has to."

"But back on Jamin," Chloe said, wanting to change the subject, "you did your duty. You did exactly what was right."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, "it is easier now, to see that. And I only found out later, when we preparing the final report to the Jedi Council, that the queen had deceived us all."

"How?"

"The prospectors had not responded to a random probe. They had responded to an invitation. After Dalion's departure, the queen had somehow formulated the notion that, if she coupled with a Jedi, she might manage to conceive in spite of her age. She had risked extinction of her people for the chance to survive.

"Of course, Qui-Gon could not have fertilised her, since he would have been taking dietary supplements to prevent that from happening. But I suppose the Jamini did not know about contraception. A Jamini male must have been the father of the queen's child. Presumably the Royal Council all managed to conceive by having the pick of the menfolk. Ironically, of course, I would have been able to fertilise either the queen or Gaia, since I was not taking the supplements."

"Have you ever been back?"

He shook his head. "We have never heard any more from Jamin, and I don't think I would want to be the one to go back if we did. I still think of Gaia sometimes though. I'm glad I could share her story with you. I think she would have liked you." He smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Are you tired? It seems like I've been talking for hours."

Chloe nodded, and raised herself on her knees so she could kiss him. "You go on in. I'll be there in a minute."

* * *

Three candles on the bedside table flickered as Chloe entered the bedroom, their shifting glow reflecting from the gold-red of Obi-Wan's hair. The light fell too on the skin of his chest, on the crisp sheet which rested low across his hips, and it fell on his hand and arm which lay outstretched towards her, his fingers gently curling upwards. And the light cast shadows across the noble features of his face, relaxed and peaceful as he lay before her soundly, and deeply asleep.

She edged towards the bed, a sudden urge to touch him driven not by desire but a need to confirm he was really there. The story about Gaia had been unsettling, and Chloe had spent a few minutes in the refresher convincing herself to take it for what it was – an anecdote from many years ago. He had clearly changed since then; grown into his role, become confident that the difficult choice would often be the right one. No doubt Obi-Wan had countless more stories, as equally as tragic as Gaia's. Perhaps he had happy stories too. She must remember to ask him.

Chloe's eyes traced a fading bruise on his forehead, and then moved lower to his neck, then his chest, pausing at the scar bisecting his abdomen; very real evidence of the warrior she had personally witnessed so little of.

How close had he come, on his last mission, to not returning? How many lives had he taken? How many comrades had he seen fall? She didn't know the answer to any of those questions. In fact Chloe realised there was much about Obi-Wan she still did not know. And she would never know what it was really like to be a Jedi, to shoulder the responsibility he did.

She sat down on the bed and slid carefully to his side, moving quietly so as not to disturb him. She lay in a mirror of his position, her head resting on the pillow opposite his. Tentatively, she lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. It was rough under her fingers, blonde stubble glinting in the light. Then she took his hand between both of her own, raised it to her lips and kissed calloused fingers gently. Their time together had been laughably brief, so far. She wondered, how many other woman loved him, before her? How did they cope with the unthinkable? The risks he took each time he went away, the very real possibility that he might not come back… how could anyone live like that?

For endless minutes she simply lay and watched the patterns formed by the candle light flickering over his skin. She studied every feature of his face: the long eyelashes curving from his lids, the beauty spot on his right cheek, the short beard framing slightly parted lips. At rest, he looked younger, the frown too often found on his brow erased save for a shadow of a line in its place. She listened to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing and noticed the light glinting off the sprinkling of hair covering his chest as it rose and fell, the tiny throb of pulse in his neck which she felt simultaneously under her fingers as they lightly caressed his wrist.

Eventually, she found herself shivering, and realised that she was cold, and, feeling the softness of the bed beneath her, incredibly tired. As if unconsciously responding to her, the sleeping Obi-Wan sighed, shifted on to his side, and slipped an arm around her waist. Chloe smiled.

She stretched and turned her head to blow out the candles, then snuggled back against him, arranging the covers carefully over them both. Sleepily, she breathed in his scent and traced patterns on his chest.

Tomorrow she would deal with this mess inside her head, these forbidden feelings that at the moment felt too right to be denied. Tomorrow she would let herself contemplate his principles, the values he had upheld for long enough to be considered an example to the next generation of Jedi. The values that left so little space for her. And tomorrow she would let her thoughts turn towards the next mission, and the next, and she would battle with anxiety, not for his feelings but for the loss of him.

For now, she had tonight. For tonight, Obi-Wan was here, and he was hers.

Feeling the comforting weight of the arm across her, together with the warmth of the body just a few inches away, Chloe closed her eyes, and let her mind drift towards sleep.


	14. Back to Business

**Chapter Fourteen**

_One week later_

Chloe awoke to an unusual feeling of contentment. Happiness. Warmth. Safety.

"Hello," Obi-Wan said. He was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her.

She smiled sleepily and closed her eyes again. He never stayed with her until morning. "Mmm, nice dream, don't go anywhere..."

"Not a dream, sweetheart."

Then she remembered that this was no ordinary morning.

She groaned, pressing her face into his chest so her voice was muffled. "When's the Council meeting?"

He stroked her hair. "This afternoon."

"And you think you'll be assigned today?"

"Yes. There are at least three battalions without Jedi command, and four or five intelligence leads to follow up. It's just a question of deciding which one."

"Feel like bunking off with me this morning?" She snuck a hand down his chest and over his stomach, mapping his muscles with her fingertips.

He chuckled, catching her hand before it could travel any lower. "I'd like nothing more. Unfortunately, I've got a much less pleasurable proposition for you."

Right. Work talk. With a small sigh, she detached herself from the comfort of his body and flopped back on the mattress. "Go on."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her quickly on the lips. "I need someone to help me sift the last of the intel, and you are the fastest encryption cracker in the temple..."

The data chips Obi-Wan and Anakin retrieved on their last mission had finally been repaired, leaving hundreds of data files – personnel records, surveillance footage, and encrypted weapon specifications – that needed processing. During his recuperation, Obi-Wan had been going through the records himself, with Chloe's help when she could be spared from the archives.

Chloe wrinkled her nose. "Sure." In reality it was a job she could do in her sleep, but if it meant she would get to spend another couple of hours with Obi-Wan, she'd leap at the chance. By tonight he and Anakin could be on their way to goodness-knows-where, for an indeterminate length of time.

"Good," Obi-Wan said, clearly in Jedi General mode already. He flung back the sheet and started to get out of bed.

"Wait!"

Obi-Wan looked round, alarmed at the urgency in her voice.

Chloe smiled, heaved her sleepy body upwards and looped her arms around his neck. "You haven't even said good morning to me properly yet."

He laughed and smoothed her hair. Then she yelped as, having been moved at inhuman speed, she found herself flat on her back and pinned to the bed by his weight.

There was no need for words; his smug smile said it all. But before she could think of a smart reply, he had lowered his mouth to hers and was kissing her thoroughly. Damned cheat.

* * *

Chloe made breakfast while Obi-Wan showered. She was stirring a pan of eggs when Obi-Wan called out from the 'fresher, "Any towels?"

"Oh, sorry, I forget to put clean ones out. Look in my closet. Top shelf. Food will be ready in a minute."

When their breakfasts were assembled and Obi-Wan had not reappeared, Chloe left the food on the counter and went to find him.

In her bedroom, her closet door was open. Obi-Wan was sat on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist, and water dripping down his legs and on to the floor. He held a small, framed holo in his hands and was staring at it intently.

"Breakfast's ready," Chloe said, walking to his side. "Ah. You've found my picture."

"In your closet," Obi-Wan murmured.

"Erm, yeah. I kind of talk to him sometimes, when I really need advice."

In the holo, a skinny teenage girl with straight, light brown hair smiled shyly up at them. She was seated on a bench in front of a row of trees. Next to her, one arm slung around her shoulders, was a bald-headed man whose smile exactly matched hers.

"It was taken just a month before he died," Chloe said, frowning. Obi-Wan was still staring at the picture with a strange expression on his face. She knew she was gangly and geeky back then, but surely that alone wasn't worth staring at?

"Your father," Obi-Wan said.

"Yes."

"Who was killed on…"

"Rothana. Ten years ago."

"And no-one from your family ever saw his body?"

"That's right. Look, do we really need to talk about this now? I'm hungry, and breakfast is getting cold."

Obi-Wan remained silent, but held the holo up to the light, adjusting the angle back and forth.

"Is something the matter?"

He placed the picture down on the bed, but kept his eyes fixed on it. "I recognize him."

Chloe picked up the picture. "He was fairly prominent in the Academy. He even appeared in news items occasionally, when they needed a scientific opinion on something in his field."

"I've seen him."

"I suppose you could have. You must have a good memory-"

"No," Obi-Wan interrupted her. "I mean I've seen him recently. Do you remember the suspected Z-toxin lab I mentioned?"

"Yes, of course." Snippets of intelligence about the mysterious neurotoxin had been circulating for several years now. It was reputed to be a biological weapon with the capacity to wipe out populations of entire planets without so much as a single missile being fired. But there had been no solid evidence of its existence, until now.

"This man was working there," Obi-Wan continued. "I saw him in the video footage. I noticed him because of his smile. He reminded me of you."

"I don't understand," Chloe said, a little bit annoyed that Obi-Wan could associate her in any way with something so sickening. "You must be mistaken. Why didn't you say something?"

Obi-Wan looked up at her. "It seemed trivial, compared to the horror of what he was working on."

"You're not actually suggesting it is my father, are you?" Chloe said, irritably. "You said that lab footage was only three months old."

"Yes, it is."

"Then that's not possible, never mind the fact that he would never have been associated with anything of the kind."

"I know, it shouldn't be," Obi-Wan said, calmly, as if she was a small child getting worked up about nothing. "But I've been sitting here for ten minutes going over it in my head and I'm certain this is him. The clip was in color, completely clear. I got a good look at him, and the resemblance to you was disturbing enough that I watched it a second and a third time."

"And the dates on the files?"

"All cross-validated in the intel lab. There's no reason to doubt them."

"Then there must have been an error. Droids make mistakes all the time, or at least the people programming them do."

"Of course." Obi-Wan carefully took the holo from her slackened fingers. "That's why I called the lab a couple of minutes ago to get them to check the files manually."

"What did they say?"

"That they'll get back to me."

Chloe sat down heavily on the bed next to him. They both stared at the photo of her father. Chloe tried to recall the feeling of well-being she had experienced when she woke up, but she couldn't quite manage it. The moment seemed like days ago, not minutes. This had to be a silly mistake. Any second the lab would call and she and Obi-Wan would laugh about it, eat their breakfast and get on with their day.

For a second, she let herself consider what this might mean, if it wasn't a mistake. If Obi-Wan was right…

Obi-Wan put the picture down, and placed his hand over hers. "You want some breakfast?"

For once his touch wasn't comforting. She brushed him off and stood up. "No," she said, and crossed the room to stand with her back to him, staring out of the window.

"It might be better not to think about it, until we know one way or another."

Too late for that. Her brain was sprinted ahead, whether she wanted it to or not.

Obi-Wan's comlink beeped.

Chloe, snapped her head around, watching as he activated it.

"Kenobi."

"This is Padawan Nika in the intel lab sir. I have the results of the manual file check you requested."

The girl paused. She sounded nervous.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan said.

"I've run the check three times and it's come up with a conclusive answer. Ninety-nine point five percent certainty."

"Of what?" For a moment Obi-Wan sounded as impatient as Chloe felt.

"Sorry sir, I meant to say, ninety-nine point five percent certain that the date on the file is accurate. At least to the nearest thirty days."

"Thank you Padawan. Good work." Obi-Wan shut off the com unit. He looked up. "I'm sorry. I know it's not what you wanted to hear."

"I want to see it."

Obi-Wan stood up. "Of course, we'll go straight to the temple."

But Chloe was already connecting up a data lead to the terminal on her desk. "I can encrypt a channel right here."

"I'm not sure if that's possible…"

"Trust me, it is."

"Then it's certainly against protocol."

"Please, Obi-Wan. No one will ever know we've been in. It's my career on the line if anyone finds out." Chloe tapped at the keyboard, her face set rigid with determination. She needed this to be settled now. Obi-Wan could not make such accusations and expect her to calmly amble off to the temple as if it were a normal day. "I can do this with or without your permission, but it will be quicker if you help me."

She heard Obi-Wan cross the room to stand behind her. "I guess I have no say, then."

Chloe smiled in brief satisfaction as the logo for the temple intranet appeared on her screen. Moments later she was in.

She nodded as she listened to Obi-Wan describe how to navigate to the right directory, feeling strangely calm: numb, detached, as if this was happening to someone else. The connection was slow, and as the screen began to fill with file names, the logical, professional, problem-solving part of her brain ran through the possible scenarios.

Most likely was that Obi-Wan had made a mistake in his identification of the man in the footage. All her instincts told her this must be the case. They would find out for sure in a matter of minutes.

But, if Obi-Wan _was_ correct, then that left two possibilities. Either someone had cloned her father…

…or he was still alive.

* * *

Chloe stared blankly towards the window, oblivious to the rush of traffic outside. The framed holo of her father and her teenage self lay on the dining table in front of her.

"Drink this." Obi-Wan said. He placed the mug of tea on the table, and sat down, taking one of her hands between both of his. "It'll stop you shaking."

Chloe glanced at the drink, but didn't pick it up. The holo caught her eye. She shuddered, and turned it over. There had been no mistaking the man in the footage. The way he held himself, the way he walked, his voice… there was no way those characteristics could be transferred to a biological clone. In any case, if he'd been cloned based on cell samples taken just before his death, and then grown to adulthood in ten years, that would mean growth acceleration beyond all limits currently known to science.

But the idea that her father would have ever considered working for the Separatists - a terrorist organization, for Force's sake - was preposterous. Unless he had been coerced somehow… tortured… brainwashed… and that was unbearable to think about. And could someone really have gone to the trouble of faking his death, all those years ago?

She looked up into Obi-Wan's clear blue eyes. "Where," she said, managing to keep her voice calm. "Where's the lab? Where is he?" For the moment, it felt safer to think of the man as nothing more than "he".

"We don't know," Obi-Wan said. "At least not yet. The disk contained a jumble of clips extracted from a Separatist archive. The recording dates are embedded in the file headers, but, as for location, we're going to have to rely on any clues visible in the footage itself, and that will take a lot longer."

Chloe pushed her chair back and stood up. "Then let's go."

"What about breakfast?"

"Not hungry," she muttered, heading for the door.

Chloe waited impatiently as Obi-Wan pulled on his boots, grabbed his robe, and as an afterthought, stuffed some bread and fruit into a paper bag.

"Here," he said, "in case you're hungry later." Chloe took the bag without a word.

"Hey," Obi-Wan said, raising a hand to her cheek. "You okay?"

She looked at him. The truth was that she didn't know. Long-buried memories of her father's disappearance were starting to return, dredging up grief she had long since congratulated herself for dealing with. Now it felt as raw as ten years ago. She wasn't sure that was something she could share with Obi-Wan.

"Sure," she said, and was just about to activate the door when it slid open in front of her.

"Hi honey," said Matty, dragging her suitcases through the door, raising an eyebrow at Obi-Wan and then grinning at Chloe. "I'm home."

* * *

Tears of relief flooded Chloe's vision at the sight of her friend. A second later she was enveloped by Matty's enthusiastic hug, and inhaling the familiar scent of the very expensive perfume Matty always found someone to buy her. "I missed you," Matty whispered in the ear that was farthest from Obi-Wan. "And it looks like you have _a lot_ of explaining to do."

Matty pulled away, and extended her hand to Obi-Wan. "Hi," she said, tossing her red curls over her shoulder and smiling the demure smile that she always used when meeting powerful men for the first time. Pretty. Unthreatening. On the surface, at least. "I'm Matilda."

"Hello," Obi-Wan said. He shook her hand politely, although his eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Um, yeah," Chloe said, finally spotting the awkward silence. "Matty, this is Obi-…, err Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. And this is my roommate and dear friend, Matty Jaks."

Obi-Wan inclined his head to Matty. "Good to meet you. I'm afraid we were just leaving."

"That's a shame," Matty said, smiling a mischievous smile as she looked from Obi-Wan to Chloe and back again. "I thought I might be in time for breakfast."

Obi-Wan's com unit beeped.

Obi-Wan expression was one of relief. "Would you excuse me?" he said, and stepped past them and through the doorway without waiting for an answer.

Matty said nothing for a few seconds, until Obi-Wan could be heard speaking quietly from down the corridor. Then she hugged Chloe again before taking her by the hand and leading her further into the apartment.

"Well?" she whispered, fiercely. "Obi-Wan? First name terms? He wasn't just here on business, was he?"

"No," Chloe said, with a sigh. "And seeing as you'll get it out of me eventually, everything you currently suspect is correct."

Matty frowned. "What's the matter, darling? You're pale. What's he done to you?"

Chloe rubbed her forehead. She was starting to get a headache. "No… I mean nothing. This isn't about him. Something's come up, and, oh Matty, I wish I could tell you about it but I can't. It's classified, and until I know exactly what's going on I can't say a word."

Matty put a hand on Chloe's arm. "Don't worry about it. Look, you go off and do what you need to do. I'm going to be home for at least a week, so we'll catch up later, yeah?"

"Chloe," Obi-Wan interrupted from the doorway.

"Yes?"

"There have been a number of developments regarding the operation we were discussing. We need to get to the temple. Right now."

"Okay," Chloe said, patting Matty's hand and stepping away.

"You want me to drive you?" Matty said. "I'm much faster than the shuttle, the traffic out there-"

"That won't be necessary," Obi-Wan snapped. "My padawan is on his way to collect us. Are you ready Chloe?"

She nodded, glancing behind her, already feeling homesick at the idea of leaving the apartment.

"You take good care of her," Matty, said, in a tone that meant business.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, but flashed her a rather sarcastic smile as he ushered Chloe out of the door. She looked back at Matty apologetically. Her friend nodded and smiled, and made a shooing motion with her hands.

"You okay?" Obi-Wan said for the second time, as they waited for Anakin in the ground-level parking bay.

"Mmm," Chloe replied, not looking at him. "What's the development?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "We have a possible location for the weapons lab. And evidence from another lead indicating that the Separatists are preparing to test it."

* * *

At the temple, Obi-Wan and Anakin headed straight into an emergency meeting of the Jedi Council. Chloe sat amidst droids in the intel lab, searching for the file she'd watched with Obi-Wan in her apartment. She found it quickly and pressed play.

The picture was perfectly clear: a fixed, wide angle view of a laboratory consisting of a white room, work surfaces around its perimeter, and a large table at the center supporting various pieces of equipment that Chloe didn't recognize. She could hear the hum of several droids as they moved about the lab. One carried a tray of test tubes containing a blue-coloured liquid through a doorway at the far end of the room. Through a viewing window in the lab wall, Chloe could just see the droid transferring the tubes to a rack suspended above a tank of a reddish-pink substance.

Off-camera, someone stared speaking. "Cycle four, protozoan version two point zero seven. Test four-two-zero. Live human muscle tissue samples, harvested less than two hours ago. Previous tests indicated the neurotoxin was not released at sufficient density for lethal human paralysis within the target time of sixty seconds after exposure."

After a few seconds the bald-headed man came into view from the left. Chloe breathed in sharply, just as she had when she'd seen it for the first time. The shock was not any less this time.

"I think this one might be a success," the man said, momentarily turning directly to the camera and flashing a wide smile.

Unable to stand it any longer, Chloe jabbed at a key to shut off the video.

She closed her eyes, but it was as if the image had been burnt on to her brain. She shuddered. She felt sick.

No matter how much she tried to persuade herself otherwise, her instincts were no longer telling her that this was a mistake.

Her instincts were telling her that her father was alive, and that he was helping the enemy to develop one of the most dangerous weapons in the history of the Republic.

And smiling while he did it.


	15. To Terminus

**A/N:** Hello, dear readers! I have an update for you, and a forewarning. My second baby is due in a couple of weeks time and once she's here they'll be no more fic writing for me for a good while. I may or may not have time to write more chapters before she arrives, but please don't be surprised if there are no more updates after this one for several months; I'll have my hands full! I'm sorry this fic hasn't been updated very frequently but I hope to see it through to the end at some point in the future. Thanks as always for the comments, they are probably the only reason I keep writing!

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

_To Terminus_

Chloe was watching the footage for the fifth time when a young woman entered the lab, introduced herself as Padawan Nika, and relayed a message from Obi-Wan asking Chloe to meet him at his quarters. Confused as to why she wasn't being summoned to the war room, and still disturbed from the footage of the laboratory, Chloe thanked Nika and hurried to Obi-Wan's apartment.

His door was open, and Obi-Wan was busy on his comlink when she arrived. Noticing her by the doorway, he waved her inside and carried on talking.

"… have them ready as soon as you can. Our provisional departure time is fifteen hundred hours. Commander Skywalker will be travelling with us to Terminus. Good. Kenobi out."

"Terminus?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan pocketed the comlink and indicated for her to sit down. "It's a space station in the Arkanis sector. An old spice-trading outpost. A couple of decades ago it was converted to a surveillance station by the Republic. We have used it from time-to-time for the launching of covert operations. And it looks like it will be convenient for this mission. All evidence points to the lab being located in the Nelvaan system, less than a parsec away."

"So the Council are sending both you and Anakin?"

"Not quite. I'll be going to Nelvaan while Anakin follows up another lead nearby. Look Chloe, will you sit down, please. There's something I need to ask you."

Chloe sat. "What is it?"

Obi-Wan paused, as if trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke. "Arkanis is in the Outer Rim. Terminus is near enough to Coruscant for radio contact to be possible, but far enough for that contact to be patchy. The Council believe you could make a very valuable contribution to this mission, both in terms of your skills and your… possible knowledge of the suspected lead scientist. The station itself is fairly secure, but of course not one hundred percent safe."

"Sorry, I don't follow."

Obi-Wan sighed. "The Council would like you to accompany us to Terminus and work directly with the field support team."

Well, she certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"You can take some time to think about it," Obi-Wan continued. "You will be away from the front line but we are at war; I can't guarantee your safety. As your superior officer I would value your expertise but as your… friend I should probably advise you to stay here."

_Friends_? Is that what he considered them to be?

Another thought struck her. "Do the Council know that we are a little more than colleagues?"

"Master Yoda is aware of it, yes."

"Is that not a problem?

"I have assured him that it will not interfere with the mission, should you decide to come."

So Obi-Wan did want her to go, even at risk to her own safety. He was right, of course; a great many lives were at risk. The potential impact scale of the Z-toxin was terrifying.

She answered him quickly. "I'll go."

"Are you sure?"

Chloe stood up, and managed a small smile. "Beats waiting around here." It was the truth. If her father was somehow involved in this, she needed to know, and sooner rather than later. Fear and uncertainty over what might have happened to him overshadowed any anxiety she felt at travelling into a war zone.

Obi-Wan studied her face for a few moments before he was satisfied she meant it. "Good. I need to go and arrange transport. I suggest you go back home and pack some essentials. We should be able to leave mid-afternoon. And please don't mention this to… anyone."

"You mean Matty?"

Obi-Wan paused by the door, and hesitated before he answered. "Yes."

"I do understand the basic principles of military protocol." Her tone was sharper than she intended.

Obi-Wan's expression softened and he moved towards her. "Of course you do. And I know the situation concerning your father must be hard to handle." She let him cup her cheek and kiss her forehead. "But," he continued, "I'm afraid that, if you do come with us, there can be no concessions, either due to your personal involvement or in the way I treat you. It may seem harsh, and if you are uncomfortable with that and would rather stay here it's perfectly understandable. No-one will think less of you."

Chloe looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his hand on her cheek, willing her heart to harden.

It didn't. But, she thought, perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to learn how to cope. Play it tough, see if she could fool everyone, maybe even herself.

"I understand," she said, placing her hand over his and removing it from her face. "I'll be back in about an hour to start on the briefing notes."

* * *

It was standard Jedi procedure to use non-military craft when departing Coruscant on classified operations. So, later that afternoon, Chloe should not have been surprised to find herself on a small, run-down commercial ship named the _Star Eagle_. Still, given the hectic and intense few hours of preparation, the set-up seemed a bit of an anticlimax. The only crew consisted of three clone troopers and their commander, along with Obi-Wan, Anakin and herself. They would meet the rest of the clone troopers, along with a small team from the Republic Intelligence Corps, at the space station.

That night, alone in her small, hot bunk room, Chloe couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about her father, going over the possibilities again and again, but making no real progress. Her brain was too tired to come up with anything useful, but it would simply not shut up.

Unable to stand it any longer, she got up, dressed quickly in loose-fitting pants and a top. She grabbed her personal datapad on the way out of the room, and headed off along the corridor, hoping to find somewhere cooler. Passing Obi-Wan's door she paused for a second but then thought better of it. No special treatment, he had said. So, even in the presence of a handful of clone troopers, they had to act as if their relationship was strictly professional.

The Eagle's galley was the only part of the ship that, in the original design at least, must have been intended to be comfortable. At one side was a small kitchen area containing a sink, a chiller cabinet and an oven to heat pre-prepared ration packs. Opposite, a long, narrow durasteel table, marked with the crude graffiti of a century of merchant crewmen, stood beneath a floor-to-ceiling window. At some point in the past the window would have afforded an impressive view, but now the thick glass was scratched and discoloured, smudging the stars beyond. Chloe found a cup in the cupboard and filled it with drinking water.

She took a seat at the table and sipped her water, wrinkling her nose at its strong, metallic taste. Then she opened her datapad and brought up the mission briefing notes, thinking it wouldn't hurt to go over them again. When they arrived at Terminus, Obi-Wan would take his clone troop platoon and travel to the Nelvaan system to follow up the lead on the laboratory. If, and when, he found it, his first objective would be to attempt to obtain a sample of the Z-toxin, or ideally, if he could track one down, a ready-engineered anti-toxin. That complete, he would call for reinforcements to capture key personnel for questioning, and then leave, taking out the lab as he went.

Anakin's task was more straightforward. He would travel to Tatooine to meet the contact, Zak Roden, who claimed to have information about a scheduled test of the toxin. This man, Roden, had regularly sold information to the Republic, and Anakin, as a former citizen of Tatooine, had dealt with him before. This time, Roden seemed to be particularly cagey about the details in advance, and had refused to give any more information before being paid an extortionate fee. Unfortunately, he appeared to be shrewd enough to understand precisely the value of the information he held, and the Jedi had to assume that the planned attack was imminent.

Chloe's role in all this was to stay on Terminus and work on systems and intel in the support team for Obi-Wan's mission. Somehow, the team from the Intel Corps would also be involved, but no-one seemed to know whether they were field agents or would be working in support like Chloe.

Regardless of the details, Chloe had to come to terms with the fact that, in a matter of hours she could find herself face-to-face with a man that appeared, to all intents and purposes, to be her father. She had daydreamed frequently, over the years, of what she would say to him, should she see him again. But she had never considered it could actually happen, and never like this. And, of course, she had always believed his disappearance was a tragic accident, not a deception perpetrated by an enemy she had spent the last six years working to defeat.

Now, she just wanted answers.

Karl O'Brian had been well known amongst his peers for his strict principles. He had led committees on the ethics of cloning, for heaven's sake. Merely based on his professional reputation, the idea that her father was working on something that could allow mass murder was ridiculous. But it wasn't just that; no one really knew him like she did. Even in her teenage years she had been closer to him than she had been to her mother, and he to her.

To the outside world, her father often appeared to be intense, complicated and eccentric, but, she knew the personality he projected was just his way of coping with the pressures of his position. Chloe remembered the long weekend walks they used to take in the park of Coruscant's university district: one moment they would be debating the principles of evolution, the next he would fall silent, shushing her and pulling her into the trees so they could watch a rare jaerbird tend to her young, or a pair of redhorn stags in a standoff over territory. Then on the way home they would buy ice-cream at the sports field and laugh together, comparing the behaviour of the humans there with the animals they had just been watching.

She remembered the time when she was thirteen, and she failed a long-dreaded chemistry exam. Chloe had been terrified of telling her father, and she knew by the expression on his face the he was disappointed. But he didn't say anything. He just quietly announced, a few days later, that a student had volunteered to teach one of his lunch-time lecture courses, meaning he'd have a few hours spare to tutor Chloe for the retake. She never stopped hating those horrendous chemical formulae, but she got through the exam thanks to his help, and her natural desire to please him.

In fact, she realised, sitting here in the middle of the night, in the galley of this run-down ship, she had unconsciously been working to please him ever since.

Even when she knew he would never be there to see her graduate from his precious Academy.

But the idea that he had faked his disappearance; left her and her mother, let them believe he had died. It was unthinkable How could he do that? It was impossible.

And then the solution struck her.

There could only be one explanation. The obvious explanation. So obvious, it was embarrassing that she hadn't thought of it before.

"There's juice in the chiller."

Obi-Wan's voice made her jump.

He opened the chiller. She blinked against the sudden brightness of the light.

"Sorry," he said, crossing the room and placing two metal cans down on the table. "I didn't mean to startle you. Too much of the space water isn't healthy on the digestion. That is the unfortunate voice of experience speaking." He pushed her half-empty cup away, flashing her a crooked smile.

Chloe's heart fluttered, and she instinctively smiled back, grateful for the distraction. What she would give, right now, to be sat with him at Dex's in the late afternoon sunshine, banter flying between them, her only worry being the idea that she might actually and possibly be quite hopelessly in love.

"Couldn't sleep?" Obi-Wan said.

She shook her head. "Mind wouldn't switch off, so I came out here to think. And I just thought of something, sitting here. Something about my father, if it really is him in the video clip."

"What is it?"

"Double agent."

Obi-Wan sat back in his seat. "Given his reputation, it did cross my mind. But surely, if he was, then we would know about it."

Chloe found herself irritated. "Perhaps someone does, but they're just not choosing to telling _you_."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm not a believer in conspiracy theories. The simplest explanation tends to be the best."

"I knew him, Obi-Wan. And believe me, it's not the simplest explanation, it's the _only_ explanation."

"Then let's hope we're lucky, and you'll be able to hear it first hand."

_Lucky?_ She didn't like the sound of that.

Obi-Wan got to his feet. "You really should get some rest now. There may be little opportunity over the next few days."

"Not sure if that's possible. It's horribly hot in my cabin. I could hardly breathe."

"Typical. Mine's colder than midwinter on Hoth."

"Perhaps we should swap."

"You could join me."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that would be appropriate, err, General."

Obi-Wan flashed her his most charming smile. "Very convincing, Agent O'Brian. But you don't need to start acting quite yet. The troops are occupied on the bridge and Anakin sleeps like a baby, and he knows about us anyway."

"To be honest, I don't know if I'm quite in the right mood..."

He took a step back. "Chloe, sweetheart, what do you take me for, a cold-hearted, sex-obsessed scoundel?"

With an inner sigh of relief, she understood. Relishing the opportunity to release the tension that had grown between them, she grinned and tapped her finger against her lips, as if contemplating the possibility.

He tutted and leant down, putting his hand over hers. "I'm not propositioning you, sweetheart. I said you needed to rest. If you can't sleep, then I'd like to help. In whatever way you'd like. Besides…" he paused and looked down at the table. "I never sleep as well alone as I do when I'm with you. But if you'd rather be on your own, just say-"

"No. Of course not. I wouldn't want you to lose sleep, General, sir, because of me."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and turned to leave.

"I never sleep as well alone either," she called after him.

He chuckled, and waited for her to lead the way out of the room.

* * *

The window in Obi-Wan's cabin was clearer than the one in the galley. Outside, multi-coloured streaks of light charted their progress in hyperspace. They lay together on the bed, facing the window, Obi-Wan's body curled around Chloe's back.

Beneath the blanket, Obi-Wan's arm was tucked around her waist, his lips resting against the back of her head, and Chloe was finally beginning to relax. It was so comforting, to be with him like this, after the turmoil of the past sixteen or so hours. It suddenly occurred to her that she had not even begun to worry about the prospect of him willingly setting foot inside a Z-toxin lab – and potentially facing a weapon against which a lifetime of Jedi training and an affinity with the Force was no defence.

But she had promised herself she would act her part, so not worrying about Obi-Wan was good, wasn't it? After all, he must have faced dangers such as this before, countless times. He certainly didn't appear fazed. She listened to his breathing. It was slow and steady. Just as she had decided he'd probably fallen asleep, he spoke.

"I've sometimes wondered, you know, what it would be like to be able to be together, like this, every night."

"What, stuck in a tin-pot ship en route to the back of nowhere to put yourself in mortal danger? You actually want to do that more often?"

"You know what I mean. To be with someone, like this, without compromise."

Of course, Chloe did, and there was no way she could admit how many times she had thought exactly the same. Kind of exactly equal to the number of times they had spent the night together. She bit her lip. "You mean giving up everything you have been trained to believe in, not to mention your duty and your vocation, in a time of war, to leave and be with…"

…_the person you love_, she'd so very nearly said. But Obi-Wan was speaking theoretically. He'd said "someone," not "you." She bit her lip and tried again "…this _someone_."

"So you wouldn't consider it, if you were in my position?"

Chloe sighed. Why did he have to bring this up now? She desperately wanted to turn over and look into those blue eyes, to see if the depth of emotion she felt for him was reflected just the tiniest bit… But that would go against her resolution. She had to try to play it tough, to be as detached as him…

She pressed the side of her head hard into the pillow. "Honestly, Obi-Wan, I don't think I'm really qualified to understand your position. I only know what you've told me."

"Mmm," he said sleepily, pulling her more tightly against him. "Stupid idea, huh?"

Chloe pressed her eyes shut. After this mission, she would tell him. After the situation with her father had been resolved, then she would have enough emotional energy to make her big confession, and deal with his reaction.

"Yeah," she said, feeling a sudden, inexplicable urge to memorise the sensation of Obi-Wan's arms around her. "Stupid idea."


	16. Protocol

Hello there! I'm back with more of my little story for you. Sorry for the delay; I promise it won't be another 6 months before the next chapter this time!

Oh, and I'd like to recommend the fantastic new Clone Wars novel, Gambit: Stealth, by Karen Miller. Her writing style is awesome; characterizations perfect. And with its computer viruses and bioweapons Chloe would fit right in!

Quick recap: Obi-Wan, Chloe and Anakin are heading to the Outer Rim to follow up some leads on Separatist development of the deadly bioweapon known as the Z-toxin. Obi-Wan's mission will be to locate the development lab on the world of Nelvaan and attempt to collect a sample of the toxin so an antidote can be engineered. Anakin is to meet a contact on Tatooine who has information about a rumoured test of the toxin. Chloe's father may or may not be have been involved in the toxin's development - which also means he may not have died 10 years before, as Chloe has always thought. Chloe is finding it difficult to cope with the intensity of her feelings for Obi-Wan, and, to make matter worse, they must hide their relationship for the duration of the mission.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Protocol**

_Terminus._ Over a century old, the space station looked every bit its age. Once a hub for illegal trade in spice, weapons and even slaves, the ugly tangle of durasteel floated at the eastern corner of the Arkanis sector, and to the casual deep-space traveller appeared to be nothing more than a huge piece of space junk: derelict, abandoned and uninteresting.

And that was exactly what the Republic Intelligence Corps liked everyone to believe.

In truth, the very latest surveillance technology had been fitted within the old shell, turning something that had been at the heart of many of the Republic's greatest troubles into one of its most valuable assets.

"And that concludes the tour," said Station Commander Darius Drake, as he and Chloe reached the bank of terminals where she had previously been working. "Any questions?"

But Chloe wasn't listening.

"Miss O'Brian? Is there a problem?" he said in a loud voice, finally drawing her attention away from the screen.

"What?"

Drake sighed. "I had hoped you could find your way around the system without help. I was assured your ability made up for your lack of experience."

"Oh yes, sorry," Chloe said, "I mean, yes, there is a problem. I'm afraid a critical percentage of the core scripts need to be rewritten. They're riddled with security issues. Leave them like this and we risk a hostile attack making it through to Coruscant the moment we go online." She frowned. Nothing was more irritating than badly-written code. "Who wrote these anyway? They clearly had no idea what they were doing."

Drake stared at her for a moment. His jaw clenched once, and then twice. "I did."

"Ah. I see..."

While Chloe was still trying to work out if, and how, she should apologise, Drake changed the subject. "I assume you have your basic combat credentials up to date? Fitness? Weapons?"

This time it was Chloe's turn to stare. "Err…"

"Or has the Academy severed all links with the reality of warfare?"

Then she remembered. Those courses she did a couple of years ago. The ones she hated, and neglected to attend again when her certification expired…

"Yes," she said. "Of course."

"Good." Drake stepped up to one of the terminals. "I'll have to verify them, of course."

"Erm…"

"That won't be necessary, Commander," a familiar voice interrupted from behind them. "Miss O'Brian's credentials were checked back at the Temple."

"General Kenobi." Drake turned, a smug smile on his face. "Station protocol-"

"-is irrelevant," Obi-Wan interrupted. "Miss O'Brian has been appointed by the Jedi Council. She falls under their jurisdiction, not that of your superiors at the Intel Corps. I understand that this level of collaboration between military personel, Jedi, and intelligence operatives such as yourself is unprecedented, so we need to be quite clear of the chain of command. And in this case, if you have any complaints about Miss O'Brian's suitability you may direct them to me."

"I… err, well… no."

Chloe smiled her thanks to Obi-Wan.

_Oh, I love you._

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Drake raise an eyebrow.

No, she definitely hadn't said that out loud. Chloe bit her lip. Surely she wasn't so obvious? Was she?

Obi-Wan's expression was impassive.

Drake glanced to Obi-Wan, and then back to her.

Someone's com unit beeped.

Drake's. He flipped it open and read the message. "Ah, the rest of the team have just arrived."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I hope I've made it clear that I'm not happy about this arrangement."

"Quite clear," said Drake. Stepping past Chloe, he crossed the polished black floor to the turbolift. "And on that particular matter we are in agreement. Now, perhaps you would be so good as to ensure Miss O'Brian attends the briefing. I would hate to offend the Jedi Council by asking her myself."

* * *

In the station's primary hangar, Drake introduced the team of agents sent by the Intelligence Corps: two medical doctors, four biological weapons experts and three geolocation specialists. All of them but one would travel to Nelvaan with the clone trooper platoon.

Obi-Wan had told Chloe of his plan to go in ahead of the clones to carry out reconnaissance. It now transpired that Agent Edren Stikes – Intel Corps' "top man", according to Drake – intended to accompany him. Obi-Wan shook the male Torguta's hand stiffly, only the barest hint of a smile on his lips. It was quite clear to Chloe that Obi-Wan had expected, and would vastly prefer, to be going in alone.

Drake delivered the final briefing to the assembled team of intelligence specialists and clones, handing over to Obi-Wan to give an overview of the planned ground operation. In a calm but serious manner, Obi-Wan outlined potential landing sites and the most likely locations of the Z-toxin lab before turning to fix his gaze on Chloe.

Immediately she felt an absence of the warmth with which he usually regarded her. Of course, she understood that he could not betray a single flicker of emotion, here, in front of everyone, but still, it wasn't pleasant. He was far too convincing.

"From the briefing notes," Obi-Wan said, "you should all be aware of Miss O'Brian's relationship to the suspected head scientist. In addition to managing the link to the intel systems back on Coruscant, she is here to aid negotiations if the suspect does turn out to be her father."

Obi-Wan reached to his utility belt and pulled out a slim gold-coloured device about the length of a finger. "I will be carrying a genotype scanner to confirm his true identity." Obi-Wan twisted the scanner between his finger and thumb for a few seconds before tucking it back into his belt. "Our primary objective is to retrieve samples of the toxin or any antidote that may exist, and do so as quickly as possible. The role of Professor O'Brian in our success may be critical. It's highly likely that the lab will have been installed with a self-destruct mechanism in case of discovery."

"And if her father refuses to negotiate?" interrupted Drake.

"He won't refuse," muttered Chloe.

"Then we will follow standard military protocol," Obi-Wan said, fixing Drake with a determined look. After a pause, Drake nodded, apparently satisfied.

_Protocol? _thought Chloe, as the meeting broke up, and the troops and agents continued loading equipment and making final preparations for departure. _What did Obi-Wan mean, exactly, by that?_ Perhaps another course she had missed. She resolved to look it up as soon as Obi-Wan left.

"Any other questions?" Obi-Wan asked, crossing to where she and Drake were still standing.

"Not a question," said Drake. "But some information. You are aware I.C. require risk assessment statistics to be calculated before each mission."

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, irritation flashing across his face. "I am well aware of your procedures."

"Then you may be interested in the casualty projections for the forward team."

"By the forward team I take it you mean myself and Agent Stikes," Obi-Wan said. "I'm not sure percentages are particularly helpful for a field team of two."

"Then perhaps you can pass on the figures to Agent Stikes," Drake said, pausing for Obi-Wan to say something. When he did not, Drake continued: "casualty and fatality rates came back equal at seventy-five percent. The odds are against you, General."

Chloe stared at Drake, shocked by the figures. Only a one in four chance that Obi-Wan would come out of this alive? That seemed pitifully low. She was anxious to gauge Obi-Wan's reaction.

He smiled. "Only if you believe in such things, Commander."

"Then may your Force be with you," said Drake, without a great degree of sincerity.

Obi-Wan inclined his head. "And with you Commander." He nodded to Chloe, and there was no sparkle in his eye for her, no secret smile. "And you, Miss O'Brian."

_One in four_, thought Chloe, over and over, as Obi-Wan went to speak to Anakin. Only a one in four chance that she would see him again, that she would have the opportunity to tell him how she really felt. Could she live with that? What if he were badly injured, and she could only speak to him over the communications system, with everyone listening? What would she say then? Could she stand it?

No. She couldn't.

She had to tell him before he left.

"General Kenobi," she said, hurrying over just as he turned away from Anakin. "Can I just check something on your ship? I want to make sure the onboard systems are compatible with my software."

Obi-Wan looked puzzled. "I thought you and Anakin had already gone over that."

"I can access it from the external data port," Chloe said, "but I'll need your password. Can you come and log me in?"

His eyes scanned her face. "Of course." They walked around to the far side of the ship, out of sight. Obi-Wan put one hand on the body of the craft and looked down at her. "What's the matter?"

"There's something I need to tell you. Before you leave."

"Yes?"

"Um…" Chloe began, but then stopped. What should she say? She couldn't just come out with it, could she? She wanted to explain that she didn't expect anything in return, and that she didn't want to distract him from the task in hand, but she couldn't let him face such terrible danger without knowing the depth and sincerity of her feeling, and that she couldn't let him go knowing that she had deceived him, because, face it, she was terrible at acting, at least where he was concerned, she'd tried for all of two minutes to distance herself and, frankly, she couldn't do it, and, and…

…and all she had actually said was "um," and Obi-Wan was waiting, impatiently, for her to say something more.

"Is this really important?" he said. "The crew are waiting."

"It's difficult to say," was all she could manage.

"Then I suggest you think about it while I'm gone and tell me later."

"Wait. Just give me a minute to explain."

"I haven't got a minute Chloe," he said.

"Okay, it's just I… well, seventy-five percent is much higher than I thought."

"It's also meaningless."

"But if you… if you don't succeed-" her voice had started to grow louder.

Obi-Wan raised a finger to her lips, as if he were silencing a child. She was shocked to realise his eyes were dancing with something close to anger.

"I warned you before," he said. "Make a scene and we are both in deep trouble. Drake already suspects something is going on between us. Do you want this mission to be put at risk?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then you'll just have to trust me to succeed - against the odds if you like the think of it that way. Better still, don't think about it at all."

"That's not so easy..."

"Yes it is. Just go to the bridge and get on with your job, and leave me to do mine."

"I…" she stammered, looking into his eyes, scanning his face, hoping to find something that would give her the courage to just say it.

She found nothing.

"Fine." She took a step back.

Obi-Wan had already turned away. Chloe watched, as, with a graceful leap, he mounted the wing of the small ship and climbed into the cockpit. Edren was helmeted and ready in the rear seat.

Obi-Wan pressed buttons on the console, and lowered the canopy without looking at her.

A lump of mixed emotions – fear, exasperation, rejection - clogging her throat, Chloe tore her eyes away and forced herself to turn around, breathing carefully as she walked back to the elevator that led to the station's command centre.

This was proving to be much harder than she had ever imagined.

* * *

Within an hour of Obi-Wan's departure, Chloe had been over the briefing notes and intel reports countless times, and reconfigured Terminus's tech systems to perfect invulnerability and efficiency. If only she could do the same to herself.

Drake had come to check up on her, and seemed rather annoyed when he couldn't find fault with what she had done. "It would be a good idea for you to get some rest before the team reaches Nelvaan," he said. "You look terrible."

Chloe smiled through gritted teeth. "No, thanks. I'm fine."

"Your choice," Drake said, as he walked away, "just don't complain to me later when you're exhausted."

Letting out a tired sigh, Chloe turned back to her terminal. At the opposite side of the room, Drake began reprimanding one of the clone commanders, something about weapons being unloaded in the wrong docking bay. The soldier responded politely, glancing around for an excuse to escape.

"Poor man," A voice said, "he's doing his best."

Chloe looked up to see Anakin by her shoulder. "You think so?"

He nodded, and then grinned. Right now he's desperate for me to go and rescue him."

"When do you leave for Coruscant?" Chloe hoped that it would not be for a couple of hours.

"Twenty minutes," Anakin said.

"Oh. Right. You don't need an intel support officer do you?"

"If you like."

She looked at him. "I was joking."

Anakin shrugged. "I know. But it's not such a stupid idea, if you want a distraction. It'll be a routine job. Meet Roden, get the location of the Z-toxin test, pay him and leave. I fly fast, so we'll be there and back in less than three hours. More like two, if Roden is as keen to be paid as he usually is."

"I… I don't know…"

"Tatooine's not exactly a tourist destination, but..."

Chloe shook her head. "No no, it's not that, it's just, I'm supposed to stay here."

"I'm pretty sure Obi-Wan wouldn't approve," Anakin said. "But if we're quick enough, he won't even find out."

"But he's sure to call in and check up on us, isn't he?" In fact, she was already half sold on the idea. But she couldn't, could she? It wasn't the sensible thing to do. Obi-Wan would be furious. Not that she should care what he thought…

Anakin sat on the desk next to her. "Not if he behaves the same way as on every other mission I've seen him pilot. Obi-Wan hates flying. He'll spend the first thirty minutes double-checking the navi-comp and worrying about all the instruments lying to him. Then, once he's set the course for Nelvaan and confident that the ship is heading in the right direction, he'll meditate for the rest of the journey, until it's time to make decisions about approach or landing. That gives us a good six hours, and like I say, we can be back here in two."

Chloe thought for a while, but then shook her head. "Nahh… I can't. Thanks though."

"No problem." Anakin said, getting up. "See you later."

Chloe turned back to her work, and tried to shut out Drake's voice. She screwed her eyes shut and put her head in her hands. Then, with a sigh, she pushed back her chair and stood up. Drake looked pleased when she told him he'd been right all along; she _was_ exhausted.

The walk to her room to helped clear her head. But she knew as soon as she tried to sleep her brain would helpfully replay how badly she'd handled the conversation with Obi-Wan, and then go on to work out how many ways this whole mission could end badly…

Ten minutes later she was in the hangar. Anakin didn't even look surprised.

* * *

Given his comments about flying fast, Chloe was surprised that Anakin had chosen the _Star Eagle_ for the journey to Tatooine. But as they flew in low over the landing strips of Mos Eisley, she realised why he'd selected the crummy old ship that had been their transport from Coruscant. The place was a dump. The ship fitted right in.

Once they had landed, Anakin slung an old brown robe over his black Jedi tunics, and handed her a similar one made from rough gray cloth. They descended the ramp of the ship into the sunken, concrete-clad launch docking bay. Two other battered and ugly old ships were occupying the same bay, but there was no sign of life. Anakin indicated double doors at the far side of the room.

"That way. We'll take the underground route to the centre, it's quicker and less conspicuous."

Chloe nodded. "What about ID? What do we stay if anyone stops us?"

"Best leave the talking to me," Anakin replied. "It's a lawless place. No-one cares who we are, or what our business is. The less is said the better. Once we're inside the cantina, try not to make eye contact with anyone. Roden's a slippery character but I've known him for years, so let me do the talking. If we get separated, com me, and failing that meet me back here."

This didn't sound quite as safe as she'd been led to believe. Chloe glanced back and read the large black numbers painted on the doors as they closed. _Sector Two. Hangar 93._

Ahead, the corridor stretched onwards in a straight line as far as she could see: footpath at one side and shuttle track at the other, the single polished rail gleaming in the bright lighting. She followed Anakin onto a waiting transport shuttle, and minutes later, it set off, silently, for Mos Eisley.


	17. Tatooine

Something told Chloe that Zak Roden wasn't pleased to see her.

He ignored her offered hand and looked at her suspiciously. "Jedi?"

Anakin answered for her. "No. Chloe is… a friend. She, err, loaned me her ship for the trip here."

Chloe noticed a flash of gold teeth when Roden smiled. His leering gaze slid down her body. "I get it. Always thought it must be awful lonely in that temple."

"Yeah, sure is," Anakin said vaguely, leading them over to a table at the side of the cantina.

Chloe sat beside Anakin, Roden opposite. As Anakin made small talk about trade and the war, Chloe studied their informant. Probably well past fifty standard years. Hair - greasy, grey, and streaked with white - pulled back into a ponytail that accentuated a receding hairline. Skin leathery and stained with the telltale blotches of a long-term spice user.

Anakin was asking if he'd decided to go straight yet and make an honest living.

Roden laughed. Anakin laughed. Just like old friends.

Their drinks arrived. "So where's the boss?" Roden said, taking a gulp of his whiskey. "Finally taken one blaster bolt too many?"

"He's busy," Anakin replied. Sends his apologies."

"You sure?" Roden glanced to the door. "Not planning something you might regret?"

"Don't, worry. I'm well aware you're more use to us a free man than you'd be breaking rocks on Kalstine. Trust me."

"I do, fool that I am."

They laughed again.

Roden banged his empty glass down on the table. "Then, as much as I'd like to spend all day drinking you under the table, we'd better get on to business."

"Of course."

"Credits first."

Anakin smiled. "You know how this works, Zak, and so do I. You'll get your fee. I just need a time and a place. And evidence so we know you're telling the truth."

"You're getting more like Kenobi every time I see you," Roden said. "I've got the works. Everything you need. But let's go someplace more private. You never know who's listening in a dive like this."

"I'm docked in Sector Two," Anakin said.

"I'm closer." Roden smiled, gold teeth glinting. "Which reminds me. Esme's playing up. You got time to take a look?"

Anakin chuckled. "You're such a cheap _brasta_, Zak. Anyone would think you did this deliberately to get me to fix your ship."

"I got my retirement to think of. And besides, none of them have your special touch, my boy."

"Okay, okay, I'll see what I can do," Anakin said, getting to his feet and throwing some change down on the table.

Roden led them back to the underground transport station. After a short ride, he signalled for them to get off, and they followed him to a turbolift door.

Two floors up, they stepped out of the lift. Anakin went first, with Chloe following. Roden was behind them. The hangar beyond was almost completely dark, lit only by green luminescent strips on the floor that marked out the three docking bays. Only one of them was occupied; the dark hulk of a ship surrounded by a jumble of storage containers.

"Geez Zak," Anakin began, "you're too cheap to pay for proper light-'

Mid-sentence, Anakin stopped. Twisted round, lightsaber already springing to life in his hand. "Chloe! Get down!"

Instinctively, Chloe ducked and scrambled behind a stack of containers, just as the air around them erupted with blasterfire. She crouched there, head down, heart thumping, brain still trying to catch up. Shouting. More blasterfire. What was happening? She risked a glance up, sliding along the floor slightly until she could peer through a gap between two containers.

There. Men. A lot of them. Red bolts zipping and sparking off durasteel. And Anakin deflecting their fire, his saber cutting swift blue arcs into the air.

Chloe slumped down and closed her eyes. _This is bad. Really bad._

Anakin had told her to run for it, and she was bound to be more of a liability to him than an asset. But how? Could she make a dash for the lift? Would someone notice?

But before she had chance to build up the courage to try, a large hand landed on her shoulder. Another covered her mouth.

"Get up. Keep quiet. Move."

Roden. He steered her out into the room, thick fingers gripping her neck. She couldn't move her head to see the men, whoever they were. Roden spoke loudly by her ear. "Hold your fire."

No more shots were fired. Anakin stood opposite, feet planted apart, lightsaber lifted, ready for action. Then she felt it. Cold, hard pressure on the side of her head. A blaster. A ripple of fear slid along her spine.

Roden walked her slowly towards Anakin. "Drop the weapon. Or say a permanent goodnight to your friend."

Anakin's face was lit eerily blue by the light from his saber. He shook his head. "You don't want to do this Zak."

"Drop the weapon. Now." The muzzle of the blaster pressed harder against Chloe's head.

Anakin nodded slowly. "Okay, okay. Whatever you say." The blue blade shrank to nothingness. He tossed the hilt forward, allowing it to skitter across the floor to Roden, who bent, forcing Chloe to bend with him, and picked it up.

"Aspirators," Roden ordered, stuffing the weapon in his pocket and stretching something over his face.

Men, maybe ten or twelve of them, emerged from behind the containers and the ship. Black masks obscured their faces.

"You're making a mistake, Zak," Anakin said.

"Nothing personal," said Roden. "It's just the price they were offering for you, well I couldn't pass it up." He motioned with his free hand to the men. "Take them."

One of the men dropped a canister to the ground. With a _pop_, it opened, unleashing a curl of dark green smoke.

Chloe recognized it instantly. Chlorogas. _Not good. Not good at all..._

Three seconds after the dry, sickly smell hit her nostrils, Chloe's legs gave way, her vision swam into gray, and then to black.

* * *

She awoke with a groan to pain in her neck, and at her wrists. Her throat was swollen and sore and her head felt fuzzy.

"Anakin…?" She squinted against the bright lights of the holding cell, trying, and failing to move. Thick metal clasps held to the chair on which she was seated: wrists, ankles, waist. She remembered the cantina, the subway, but nothing before that. Only the galaxy's most untrustworthy man. Roden. How could they have been stupid enough to believe a single thing he said?

"You okay?" Anakin said. He was seated beside her, bound in an identical manner. "Are you hurt?"

Chloe winced as something hard pinched the skin of her neck. "Not sure." Experimentally, she wriggled her fingers. "Just bruised, I think. Can't remember coming here, everything is so fuzzy-"

"That will be the Chlorogas. It's still wearing off. Your memory will come back in the next few minutes."

Then Chloe noticed the metal collar around Anakin's neck. "Um… is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah. Force inhibitor. Comfy, aren't they? Take it as a compliment. You must have looked dangerous enough to need one."

_I hope he's so relaxed because he's already worked out how to escape._ "Who did Roden mean? Who has he sold us-" But Chloe's question erupted into a fit of coughing. Her throat was so dry, as if she hadn't drunk anything all day…

And then she remembered. It all came back, in all its glorious, terrible detail. Terminus. Obi-Wan. The Z-toxin. Nelvaan. Her father. The mission.

The small matter of doing her job. They were supposed to be back on Terminus before Obi-Wan got to Nelvaan. _Kriff. Vaping, stanging, kriff…_

"How long have we been out?" she said, panic and dread competing for precedence. "Two hours? Three?"

Anakin grimaced. "Depends on the dose. But better not to worry about timetables now. You can always catch the morning shuttle to Galfridian."

_Galfridian? What is he talking about?_ Galfridian wasn't even the name of a planet. Galfridian were a company that made intel hardware. Cameras, microphones, that sort of thing. Then she caught Anakin's intense stare. His eyes motioned to the front of the room.

Chloe noticed the camera mounted on a tripod. Fancier than standard surveillance kit, it looked more like a holo-camera: large, glossy, and expensive. Which meant what? _Oh, I see. Someone's watching. But why—_

"Don't worry about it now," Anakin said. "Just get some rest."

Chloe understood. _Don't risk the mission to Nelvaan too_. If they were watching, they were in all likelihood listening as well. Whoever _they_ might be…

Anakin's eyes were closed now, his breathing steady. Chloe could only follow his lead. Letting her head slump back against the chair, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep, hoping beyond all hope that he had a plan. But what could Anakin do—even Anakin—if he was cut off from the Force and bound by every limb?_ What a mess. How has everything gone so wrong, so quickly? Obi-Wan is going to be furious…_

But, a few minutes later, when , already bored, she opened one eye just a sliver, she caught the movement of Anakin's gloved hand. Turned palm-upwards, he was flexing his fingers slowly, rhythmically. Curiously. Open and shut. Open and shut. Then came the faintest sound. A gentle, insect-like buzzing. Anakin's fingers were still now, but, absurdly, a fly, having apparently hatched from his hand, rose upward and flitted about his head.

"Damn bugs," Anakin said.

When she realised what it was, Chloe had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling.

The clever little droid, brand new from the intel development labs, finished its impersonation of an ordinary vapfly, headed straight to the clasp of Anakin's Force-inhibitor. Chloe braced herself for action.

The moment Anakin's collar was released, he Force-smashed the camera against the wall. The vapdroid darted to the clasps at Anakin's wrists, and then his waist. Anakin kicked his own legs free of the ankle-clasps while the droid, having buzzed to a seam on the door panel, disappeared inside.

"Okay," Anakin said, carefully using the edge of the bent metal Force collar to prise open Chloe's restraints. "Getting a bit boring in here, isn't it? Time to continue the tour." He helped her up and across to the door, where mechanism gave a soft click.

"Just a sec." Chloe carefully scooped up the tiny droid as it re-emerged from the panel. "Here." She dropped it back into Anakin's hand. "Don't want our friend here to fall into enemy hands."

Anakin grinned, watching as the vapdroid crawled into the tiny compartment fitted in the surface of his glove.

"Come on," he said, easing open the door. "Stay behind me."

* * *

Anakin and Chloe raced from the sub-hangar holding cells, blasterfire spluttering in their wake. At first their escape appeared to have gone unnoticed, but they hadn't even left the sector before the men employed by Roden—or whoever had employed him—were in pursuit.

Chloe was in front when the passageway suddenly opened out into a larger space, and there were men firing from ahead as well as behind.

"Anakin! Wha—"

But as she turned, she misjudged her steps. Stumbled, her ankle twisting awkwardly, giving way. The next moment she was on the ground.

Anakin was by her in an instant, scooping her up, one arm hooked beneath each of hers. But the next second - "Sonic detonators. Kriff it!" He swung her sideways, then let go, practically throwing her away from him, a disembodied Force-shove pushing her even harder through the air.

The air zinged with static as she flew, and a fraction of a second later the room resonated with a vicious, crackling bang—the pressure wave tossing her even further until eventually she landed, skidding across the floor to a stop. Silence. Something felt wrong. Oh, yes. The blast had taken her hearing, temporarily. She twisted around, lifing her head to see—nothing. Just smoke, choking her with the smell of singed metal and burnt leather.

"Anakin!" Her ears popped, sounds bursting back into life. Distant shouting, firing, but farther away. No enemy on top of them. And no reply from Anakin, either.

"Anakin?" Chloe scrambled forward, stumbling to her feet. Her legs were like jelly. She put a hand on the wall to stead herself, coughing and wobbling through the dry smoke until she found the place where she had fallen.

And there he was. On the ground.

"Oh, no. No, Anakin." She dropped to his side. She tried to gently roll him over, but he was too heavy and she was scared about making any injuries worse. Unless… thank heavens, his pulse was there, she could feel it. But he was unconscious, and Force-knew how badly hurt.

She glanced up. Still no-one. Which meant their pursuers had probably scattered detonators in all directions in the hope of knocking her and Anakin out. And they'd most likely be here any second to pick the two of them up. She looked around frantically.

Yes. There. On the wall to her right she spotted the thin shadow: one edge of a ventilation panel. Big enough to fit through, if only she could loosen it. She dug her trembling fingers underneath, ignoring the pain and wrenching at the metal. The panel bent a little but didn't budge. On the third attempt a couple of rivets popped out, and, desperately, she jammed the toe of her boot in the gap and levered the rest of it off.

She looked up. In the distance: footsteps; their attackers moving in.

Beside her, Anakin began to stir. "Chloe?" He started to get up but collapsed back against the floor with a grunt.

She shuffled over to his side. "I found a ventilation shaft. Come on."

Anakin pushed her hand away. "You first."

"But—"

"No arguments."

"Okay." She scrambled inside, waiting for him to slide in past her. Then, with shaking hands, she pulled the panel back in place.

She closed her eyes and caught her breath. "Do you think they saw us?

"No. I think we just about got away with it. Good girl. You did well.." Anakin smiled, but his voice was strained.

Chloe shuffled to where he was slumped, back propped against the side wall of the tunnel. "How are you doing?"

"Fine. Blast just gave me a bit of headache."

"What about that?" His hand was clamped, hard, to his left shoulder.

"Oh, yeah. I think I caught a stray blaster bolt."

"Let me look at it," she said, gently prising his fingers away. It was too dark to see properly, but the thick plate of his armoured tunic was badly pitted, and wet with blood.

"It's fine," he protested. "Just a scratch."

"Shh. Have you got bacta patches? Bandages?"

"Yeah." Anakin tugged a medipac off his belt.

As Chloe dressed and bound the wound as best she could, Anakin fiddled, one-handed, with his com. "No signal. Try yours."

"Nope. Same."

"How are we doing for time?"

Chloe checked the display. "Oh no." It was much worse than she thought. "We've been here over six and a half hours."

Obi-Wan would have arrived on Nelvaan at least an hour ago. _He might be in the lab with dad, right now…_

"Hey." Anakin put his hand on her arm. "Don't worry about Obi-Wan. There's nothing you can do about it."

"But I'm supposed to be there, to run the intel ops. What if—"

"Our doubts define our reality," Anakin interrupted. "Obi-Wan would want us to concentrate on getting out of here. Now we're still too far underground—we've got to keep moving. This tunnel must lead to the surface. That's where we need to be."

* * *

Their progress was slow and, although he was obviously trying to hide it, Anakin's condition had worsened by the time they reached the vertical shaft that would lead to fresh air, and freedom.

They tried the coms again. Still no signal.

Anakin cursed under his breath. He leant his head back against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Can you manage to get up there, with your shoulder?" Chloe said, peering up the shaft. A narrow, flimsy-looking ladder teetered up the narrow passage towards a tiny disc of sunlight at the top. Quickly, she looked away.

"Of course. How about you? Afraid of heights?"

"No." _Terrified would be a better word. __  
_  
He chuckled, but not unkindly.

She looked up. "Don't try to hide things from a Jedi, eh?"

He reached out to squeeze her hand. "You know, you're usually pretty good at shielding your emotions. But in this case the trembling kind of gives it away." He dug in a pouch on his belt. "You should probably try and eat something. Glucose tablets or dried agar biscuits?"

"No chocolate?"

He grinned. "Funny. You should probably have the glucose; it'll kick in faster."

They were silent for a while. Chloe crunched a couple of the tablets. Anakin rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes, having refused to eat anything himself.

"Chloe?" he said, eventually.

"Hmm?"

"I… I'm sorry about all of this. I shouldn't have persuaded you to come here."

"Well that was my choice, remember."

"I shouldn't have let Roden's men take us."

Chloe looked at him. _"What?"_

"After we left the cantina, I sensed guilt in Roden, just a flicker of it. It was… intriguing."

"You _knew_ he was leading us to a trap?" _Now I'm beginning to understand why Obi-Wan might sometimes consider Anakin a challenge..._

"The best way to deal with a trap is usually to spring it. You never know what you're going to learn."

Chloe shook her head in disbelief. "And what, exactly, did we learn this time?"

Anakin coughed. "Not much, I guess. Nothing about the location of the toxin test, that's for sure."

"If there ever was going to be a test…" Chloe thought for a moment, remembering the cell. Two chairs. Two Force collars.

"Wait a minute," she said. "It was supposed to be Obi-Wan, wasn't it? You and Obi-Wan. And the camera… they were going to film something. But what?"

"I've no idea."

Slowly, an idea began to form in Chloe's mind. It was repellent at first; horrific, twisted… and just the kind of thing the Separatists would revel in.

Anakin was watching her. "What is it?"

"I wonder…" she said, "thinking out loud…When intel said there would be a test of the toxin, we automatically assumed it would be on a city or world scale. What if we assumed wrong? What if the Seps wanted to demonstrate the toxin, and pull the worst kind of publicity stunt at the same time? What if they never intended to test it on civilians, but on two of the Republic's greatest assets?"

"Us?"

"You, and Obi-Wan."

Anakin grimaced. "Sounds plausible. They'd probably put it out on the holonet too."

"It would certainly attract attention." She shuddered at the thought.

"I guess we should be pleased that, if you're right, then we haven't _technically_ failed in our mission here. Although on the other hand…" He offered her a half-smile. "Obi-Wan is never going to forgive me for bringing you."

Chloe shrugged. "My choice, remember." Her shoulders slumped. "I can't believe how stupid I was, I just…" She sighed. "I have an irrational tendency to run away from problems. And you know what? I never seem to work out that's what I'm doing until it's too late. Obi-Wan is so calm, so composed, I always feel like as much as I try I'm never going to be able to cope with this…" She waved her hands around. "…with him… I mean, what does he see in me? There's probably hundreds of beautiful, elegant, self-assured, brilliant women who would throw themselves at him given half a chance. Why me?"

She realised Anakin was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

_Oops_. Chloe snatched up the packet of biscuits. "You should probably eat something too, keep your strength up and all that. And, ignore me. I don't know where all that came from. You hardly want to know about my insecurities. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It's fine."

She looked up at him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

"Hasn't he told you?" he said.

"What?"

"Why you."

"No." _Probably because I'm just convenient. A quick fling before someone better comes along...__  
_  
"Well he hasn't discussed it with me, either, of course," Anakin said, with a small smile. "But I know Obi-Wan well enough to see it for myself, or at least have a damn good guess, if that would help."

_Probably not._

But she didn't say anything, so Anakin continued. "You're right. Plenty of beautiful, self-assured women throw themselves at him. I've been there. It's pretty embarrassing." He rolled his eyes. "Obi-Wan hates it—the pretence, the games, the teasing. The princesses, the queens, they're usually the worst. They look him up and down, and they get that gleam in their eyes, like an Ossicat stalking its prey. You should see how his face falls."

Chloe found herself smiling at the mental image, and remembering Obi-Wan's story about Jamin and the queen whose advances he refused. Her heart lifted a little, the tension and worry easing just a fraction. "I can sort of imagine that."

"Want one?" He offered her the packet.

"No thanks. I'm allergic to agar."

"In fact…" He waved a biscuit at her, "you're not the only one to run away from problems. Many a hasty retreat has been beaten before some scary noblelady has gotten the chance to impose her gratitude on Master Kenobi."

Chloe actually felt herself close to laughing.

"But you're… different," Anakin said, his mouth full. "Kind of... unscary."

"Gee, thanks."

"Your Force signature is sort of… pure, too, in the same way as the signatures of water or plants are. It's unusual. Quite beautiful, in an odd sort of way. Are you really sure Obi-Wan hasn't said all this?"

Chloe smiled, a little shy, and a little sad. "Yes, I'm sure."

Anakin frowned, tucking the half-empty cookie packet back in his belt. "How are you feeling now? Shakes stopped?"

Chloe looked at her hands. "Yeah." She peered up the shaft again, and took a few deep breaths.

"Ready?"

"Not really, but I don't think I'm going to get any _more_ ready."

Anakin shuffled to the edge. "Good girl. Try not to think about it. And don't look down." He swung himself onto the ladder, holding on with his good arm, and stepped down two rungs, motioning for her to climb on above him.

Gingerly, Chloe edged out, clinging on to the rungs so hard it made her fingers hurt.

"Good girl. You're doing well. One hand over the other, and we'll be at the top in no time."

"Anakin, I like you and everything but if you say _good girl_ one more time I might have to stamp on your fingers."

* * *

The climb seemed to last for hours. But after what felt like a thousand steps, Chloe reached the top of the ladder.

And let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

"What's so funny?" Anakin was just a few rungs below.

"There's a grate across the top. And it's erm… locked."

"Okay. Keep still. I'm coming past."

Chloe clung on to the thin rungs, feeling her legs and arms beginning to shake as Anakin squeezed past, moving slowly.

He bust open the grate on the third attempt, and climbed through.

"Coast's clear," he said, reaching back and helped her out.

She slumped beside him in the dust, screwing her eyes up against the fierce sunshine. It was late afternoon, and the heat was almost unbearable.

"Well done," Anakin said, hoarsely.

She turned to look at him.

"Oh Anakin."

His face was dreadfully pale, and the dressing she'd taped over the site of his wound was dripping with blood.

Anakin, although weak, did not seem worried. "Over there." He gestured to a clump of rocks. Together, they staggered over and sat down in the shade.

"I hate to say it Anakin but you look terrible," Chloe said, once they'd both recovered their breath. "I should probably go and find some water."

"No," he said. "I can go into a healing trance, now we're out. Com Terminus. They'll already be looking for us. You okay to do that?"

She pulled out her com. "Yes, of course."

Anakin closed his eyes, muttering as he drifted off. "He will… be angry with you… cares about you… I know him…"

"Shhh…" Chloe said. "Rest. Don't worry."

She activated the com unit.

Yes, a signal. Weak, but enough for mid-range communications, which was all she needed.

She dialed the code, and waited, praying for the connection, but dreading the news that might be awaiting her.


	18. Decline

Okay, here we go folks. Drama time! Thanks for the comments, glad to know people are still reading!

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Decline**

"Commander Skywalker?"

_Drake._

"No, Commander, it's me. O'Brian."

"Where are you? What the blazes happened?"

"Transmitting coordinates now. We were captured following an intel lead. But we managed to escape. Anakin is injured and so we'll have to request medical evacuation as soon as possible."

Preliminaries over, Drake immediately launched into a long speech detailing the men and resources wasted in searching for her and Anakin. Chloe's patience quickly ran out. "Commander Drake. Sir. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience caused to you and your staff. But please, if it's not too much trouble, tell me about the status of General Kenobi's mission." The words came out clearly but her hand shook so much, she could barely hold the com unit.

A pause. "Oh, yes," Drake said. "It was successful. We have a sample of the toxin, and General Kenobi and the team are on their way back."

Relief flooded Chloe's body. _Thank the Force…_

But Drake was still speaking.

"… detonation mechanism was triggered. They were lucky to get out alive."

"Excuse me?"

"General Kenobi and Agent Stikes. They were negotiating with your father when the detonation mechanism was triggered. "

"M-my father, was identified?"

"Yes."

"And did he-"

She couldn't say any more.

"-_survive?_" Drake finished for her. "I'm afraid I don't know. The operation report has not yet been filed. As for you, the search and rescue team are already on their way. You might even be back here in time to greet General Kenobi's team when they arrive."

Once Drake had signed off, Chloe sat for what seemed like an eternity with her back against the rock, watching Tatooine's twin suns sink below the horizon. Fatigue and hunger had caught up with her, but she was beyond sleep, and would not dare to let go of conciousness anyway. Anakin remained in deep meditation by her side, his breathing so quiet she resorted to checking his pulse every so often to reassure herself he was still alive. Afternoon had cooled fully into evening by the time the rescue team found them.

* * *

Chloe was first out of the ship at Terminus, straight into billows of ion engine exhaust vapour and the clamorous, purposeful noise of post-mission activity. The mist melted away to reveal the CR-20 troop carrier _Torento_—the clone ship used for the Nelvaan mission—in the process of being disembarked.

The hangar floor was awash with personnel: white-armoured clone troops, filing neatly towards the hangar's main exit, others on stretchers attended by medics; deck hands swarming around the ship, checking for damage and restocking and refuelling. Chloe hobbled along, cursing the throbbing ankle that made the mere act of walking slow and painful.

Where was Obi-Wan? She stopped a young man in a flightsuit. "Excuse me, Lieutenant. Is General Kenobi here?"

"Yes ma'am, over there," he said, pointing, "talking to the mechs."

_Ah. There_. The sleek red and silver tail of Obi-Wan's star fighter was just visible, poking out from behind the hull of the CR-20. Chloe pressed on, stepping over a re-fueling pipe, apologizing her way through the stream of clone troops disembarking the ship, ducking under its three huge rear engines, avoiding a hissing jet of white vapour leaking from the underneath of one of them...

And there, his tunics tattered and scorched at the edges, pointing something out on the side of his fighter to two boiler-suit clad mechanics, was Obi-Wan.

If he had noticed she was there he didn't look round, and Chloe allowed herself the opportunity to simply watch him, and appreciate the fact he was back, safe and, apparently, unharmed.

After a few minutes, he thanked the mechanics and waited for them leave before turning to look at her: that singularly intense look that never failed to make her breath catch and her skin tingle. She crossed to him, careful to stop an arm's reach away, and her heart lifted as she cast her eyes over his dear, handsome face. There was tenderness in his expression… and relief… and the warmth she had missed so much. The clamour of activity around them faded into the background and she had to clench her hands until her fingernails dug into her palms to stop herself taking another step forward and touching him.

"You're hurt," he said.

"What? Oh... yes." She frowned down at the offending ankle. "I fell." Then, because there was no easy way to say it: "I'm sorry for going to Tatooine. It was a mistake." When he didn't reply, she looked up, confused. "Are you angry with me?"

"No," he said, and he didn't look angry. But there was something else. Sadness? Regret?

Panic started to flutter in her chest. "Drake said my father's identity was confirmed. Where is he?"

"Chloe," Obi-Wan said, gently. "We should find somewhere private. Perhaps when the deckhands have finished..."

But the idea of waiting a second longer than necessary was unthinkable. "Just tell me."

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand over his beard. "Your father didn't make it out. The lab was rigged to self-destruct. I couldn't save him. I'm sorry."

Chloe simply stared at him, frozen. This couldn't be happening. Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Obi-Wan was a hero. He saved people all the time; that was his _job_. This had to be a mistake.

"Here." Obi-Wan took her arm and guided her to a row of containers. "Sit down."

"Are… are you sure he..." she could hardly bring herself to say it, "...died?"

Obi-Wan sat down beside her. "I'm afraid so. The detonation was very effective."

The scorch marks on his tunics. Charring, from the explosion. Grief began to take hold of her: a slow pain, dragging at her heart, just as she had felt all those years ago when they received the news from Rothana. She desperately wanted Obi-Wan to close the gap between them, wanted him to draw her into his arms so she could press her face against his chest and shut everything out but the sound of his heartbeat; feel nothing but his hands softly stroking her hair. But he remained a respectable distance away. Meanwhile her grief intensified: cold, hard, and clawing.

She took a breath. "Tell me what happened."

"I really think it would be better to wait until we can discuss this somewhere without interruptions."

Why was he so reluctant? "I'm not a child. Obi-Wan. Please."

Obi-Wan folded his arms across his chest and looked down as he spoke. "We—that is Agent Sikes and myself—entered the lab and managed to obtain a sample of the toxin before we were your father came into the lab. We explained why we were there and asked him to come with us but he refused. Unbeknownst to us, the lab was rigged with a double negative safety cut out, and the auto-detonate mechanism was triggered automatically, with no way of stopping it. With only minutes to go, we managed to persuade your father to leave with us, and he was in the test chamber retrieving some notes when the door locked. We couldn't open it. Agent left then, with the toxin sample while I stayed to try to free your father. I'm afraid I ran out of time."

"So, what… you just _left_ him there?"

Obi-Wan looked at her, then at the floor again. "Yes."

"But was he himself? Was he being controlled some how?"

"I don't know."

"Did he put up a fight?"

Obi-Wan paused again before answering. "No."

"But there must be more than that… what did he say to you? Did you mention me?"

"Not much, and no I didn't." Obi-Wan glanced to the right where deck hands were using a forklift buggy to clear the row of storage crates. "We'd better get out of the way."

He began walking in the direction of the LAAT/s carrier that had transported her and Anakin from Tatooine. Chloe followed him, still shaken, her head pounding, and with the distinct impression that he was hiding something. She wasn't prepared to believe that her father could be so cruelly taken from her again, before she had even had chance to speak to him. "But did he give any clue about why he was there," she said, " or who had-"

Obi-Wan stopped. "I've told you all I can, Chloe. I'm sorry about what happened, but the objective was to obtain a sample of the Z-toxin to be used to formulate an antidote and we need to be glad that at least has been successful. We are fighting for the good of the Republic, remember."

Chloe waited for him to say something kind, compassionate; or touch her, for goodness sake; show her a small sign that he cared her world was falling apart. Show her that he understood.

But he didn't. Because, of course, he _didn't_ understand. By definition, as a Jedi, he _couldn't_ understand.

And now any tenderness in his expression had vanished, so completely, that she wondered if she had only imagined it in the first place. "You should get some rest," he said. "While I go and find out what Anakin has to say about your little excursion."

"He was sleeping when the ship touched down," Chloe said. "You should probably leave him to recover. He was pretty badly hurt."

"I think I can work out how to deal with my padawan for myself, thank you."

"Don't be angry with him. It wasn't his fault. He saved my life."

Obi-Wan's laugh was short and without humour. "Quite. It's not as if he was responsible for putting you in mortal danger in the first place."

"I chose to go with him."

"So you're going to tell me he didn't choose to follow some reckless, dangerous hunch once you were there? That he couldn't have got you both off planet unscathed if he hadn't taken unnecessary risks?"

Chloe remembered Roden's betrayal; remembered Anakin's comment about springing the trap. "Perhaps. But _perhaps_ he thought it was necessary for the good of the Republic. As you said, that's what we're fighting for. And as it happens we did find out some potentially valuable intelligence, so Anakin's hunch was correct. Surely you would have done the same."

"I would not have let you go in the—" Obi-Wan stopped himself mid-sentence and pressed his lips together, turning his head away.

"So you are angry with me for going."

"What did you expect? Congratulations? I recommended you for this mission, and now I'm going to have to explain your embarrassing behaviour to the Council. They will in all likelihood terminate your internship, you know, I cannot defend you against this. What were you _thinking_, abandoning your post on a whim like that?"

"So that's why you're annoyed? Because I might spoil your precious reputation?" She was dangerously close to yelling at him.

"Is that what you think is most important to me?" Obi-Wan's calm façade had slipped too; he was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed.

Chloe could feel tears starting to well in her eyes. She swallowed, forcing them back, knowing once they started they would be impossible to stop. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't cope, with any of this, Obi-Wan. I'm not like you. I shouldn't even have come here."

"No. Clearly not."

She had to get away from him before she lost it completely. She started off towards the exit. "I'll be in my quarters."

"Anakin will be sent back to Coruscant on the next available shuttle," Obi-Wan called after her. "I suggest you do the same. Under the circumstances I think it best if you take indefinite leave from the Temple until the Council has discussed your case."

She turned to him. "And you?"

"I have business to attend to here. I'll contact you when I return."

She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, rubbing her hand over her tired and sore eyes.

_And us?_ she wanted to say.

But he had already gone.

* * *

Chloe stabbed at the keyboard, scrolling down to the end of the electronic form. She hit send, then pushed back her chair and crossed command room to where Drake was working. "It's done," she said. "Every detail of the trip to Coruscant complete, with times as accurate as I can remember."

"Good," Drake said. "I'll send you a copy when it's in the system."

Chloe nodded, turning away. "My shuttle leaves in twenty minutes. Good bye Commander."

"Will General Kenobi be accompanying you?"

Chloe stopped. "No. He's not finished yet."

"Hmm," Drake said, and then paused, as if he wanted to say something else.

Chloe couldn't be bothered to ask what. Her head was thumping, and her eyelids felt like sandpaper, and her throat was sore and swollen from crying.

"It would appear," Drake continued, "that the fearsome General Kenobi deserves his reputation, after all."

Chloe's looked at him blankly, considering simply walking away. The very last thing she wanted to do right now was talk about Obi-Wan.

Drake smiled. "The Jedi tend to have a reputation for being a soft touch, but it's clear he is not afraid to follow through on his word."

Chloe sighed wearily. "Commander Drake, I'm trying not to be rude but I'm really not in the mood for guessing games. If you have something to say, just say it."

"Military protocol," said Drake, "commonly known as _whatever it takes_." Again he paused, dramatically.

Just when Chloe was about to give up on courtesy and walk off, a memory clicked into place. Just before Obi-Wan had set off, Drake had asked him what would happen if her father refused to cooperate. And that phrase, _military protocol_, had been Obi-Wan's answer.

Chloe rubbed her forehead, her eyes screwed up against her headache. "Sorry. Remind me…"

Drake seemed eager to oblige. "Military protocol states that if someone refuses to cooperate on a matter of galactic security, no method of coercion is prohibited, and neither his health, his sanity nor his life will protected."

Confused, Chloe looked up at him through bleary eyes. "Coercion? You mean physical coercion? _Torture?_"

Drake smiled. "I mean. _Whatever. It. Takes._"

"What exactly are you accusing him of?"

Drake shrugged. "Nothing. Such as accusation would be impossible since the implementation of military protocol is never documented in writing. Saves on undesirable legal complications. But General Kenobi's report is sparse, to say the least. And it seems rather convenient that your father was left behind, don't you think?"

Chloe shook her head, almost laughing. "He would never do any such thing. It's wrong. And against everything the Jedi stand for."

Drake smiled. "And war not only blurs the boundaries of good and evil, but demands the greatest of sacrifices. Perhaps even of one's own principles."

Much as she disliked Drake, Chloe found herself unable to dismiss that comment. And although her instinct, her heart, her _everything_ told her that Obi-Wan would not knowingly inflict violence on an innocent man, not even for his good of his—of _their_—precious Republic, she was still haunted by the feeling that Obi-Wan was concealing something from her. Something had happened on Nelvaan, and he didn't want to talk about it.

* * *

On the trip back to Coruscant, Chloe dreamed of her father, her wonderful, strong father, as she had last seen him, smiling, laughing, telling to behave herself when he was gone. But then the dream changed, and instead she saw him, on his knees, bewildered, frightened, pleading that he didn't know, he couldn't help, that there was nothing he could do.

And above him, holding a lightsaber to his neck, feature set in icy determination, was Obi-Wan.


	19. Out of Reach

**Chapter Nineteen**** : Out of Reach**

Chloe sat alone in the lobby of the Jedi Temple's main entryway. It had been nearly four weeks since the Nelvaan mission. She had filled the time by preparing for the upcoming college semester, often falling asleep at her desk after many hours of continuous study. There had been no word from Obi-Wan. Nothing at all. That made her both angry and relieved at the same time. It was so much easier to let herself believe the whole nightmare of Terminus and Nelvaan had never happened.

"Miss O'Brian?" A dark-haired male Padawan of about sixteen stood in front of her.

"Yes?"

"Master Nu will see you now. Please follow me."

Chloe nodded silently and got to her feet. The Padawan led her through the corridors of the Temple's semi-public wing and ushered her into a room on the third level. He excused himself and Chloe was left alone. It was a meeting chamber, she assumed, given the polished conference table that ran the length of the room. A single box was placed upon the table, and inside she recognised her personal effects: datapad, stationery, her messy notes, hand-written on flimsiplast. _One question answered, then._

The door hissed open.

"Miss O'Brian." The prim, silver-haired Head Librarian was carrying a pale brown folder in one hand. "Please, sit down. I have news of the Council's verdict."

Jocasta Nu opened her folder carefully, took out a single sheet of flimsiplast, and slid it across the table to Chloe. "This is a copy of the formal letter the Council will send to the Academy. It has been decided that your internship should be drawn to a close now, two weeks earlier than originally agreed. As you can see, the reason cited is necessary movement of personnel away from the Temple due to expanding military campaigns in the Mid and Outer Rim. Put simply, we can not afford to supervise you any more."

Chloe scanned the document, confused. Where was the mention of her running off to Tatooine?

The older woman smiled, almost kindly. "I understand the mission you participated in suffered some intensely personal complications. In light of this, the Council have decided not to formally acknowledge any, shall we call them, _errors of judgement_ that you may have made. Rather, you will be commended for the work you carried out whilst deployed with us, on the condition that you do not apply to any future internship programmes her within the next three years."

Chloe ran a hand over the letter in front of her, still not quite able to believe it. She had expected the Council to be, at best, grudgingly reasonable. If Obi-Wan was to be believed, this was more than she deserved.

Master Nu closed her folder and stood up. "Please wait here. I'll send for Padawan Jaac to escort you out."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Unless you have any questions."

"How is Anakin? He was injured on our trip to Tatooine."

"I hear Padawan Skywalker has been redeployed already," Jocasta Nu replied, her eyes narrowing in a disapproval that Chloe sensed was not of the question, but of Anakin himself. "So I assume he is quite well."

"Oh, that's good."

"Goodbye Miss O'Brian."

Chloe just nodded, and watched the older woman leave before slumping down in her chair. What should she do now? Ask to be taken to Obi-Wan's quarters on the way out? That was unlikely to go down well, she thought, crossing to the window which, to her surprise, looked out over treetops.

"Chloe."

Gods, how parched she had been for the lack of that voice!

Chloe put a hand on the glass, letting its coolness sink into her fingers, forcing herself to focus and regain her composure before she turned round. "Hello Obi-Wan."

He crossed the room to her immediately, lifting his hands towards her, but then interlocking his own fingers together instead, twisting them for a moment before dropping them to his sides. "It's good to see you."

"Busy, were you?"

"I'm sorry. I would have contacted you sooner but I was called away to Antioch two hours after you left Terminus."

"And you've been away for four weeks?"

"Well..." He stepped to her side so they were stood next to each other, both looking out of the window. "Not exactly. "

"You didn't think I might have been worried about you?"

"I would really rather you didn't worry about me."

Silence for a while. Obi-Wan seemed as distant as he been on Terminus. She wanted to shout at him, to plead for the closeness they had before that damn mission. Instead she looked out of the window. "It's beautiful," she said, eventually, indicating the lush vegetation.

"The Room of a Thousand Fountains. Yes, it is."

More silence.

"I hear Anakin is well."

"Yes."

"Did you blame him for what happened?"

Obi-Wan stiffened. "I can assure you the Council consider the facts, not subjective opinion, mine nor anyone else's. Anakin has been punished, but the details must remain confidential. I'm sure you understand it is not appropriate to discuss it with any outsiders."

She flinched at the last word. "Yes. Of course."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay. I understand." But after that she gave up on making conversation. _Let him say whatever he has come to say_. She folded her arms across her chest, and waited.

After a long pause, he spoke. "How have you been?"

"Marvellous. I wish I could risk public execution and have my father die every week, you know? It's so much _fun_."

But when her voice wobbled at the end, completely spoiling the sarcasm, Obi-Wan reached for her. He gently clasped her hand between both of his. "I don't know what to say to you... I don't think there is anything I can say that will help."

He looked so concerned, for a moment, so _loving_, that Chloe's breath hitched and she shied away from his gaze, looking down, instead, at his hands; feeling them, warm and dry; heard her heart pounding. _It is such a revelation to touch him again. To be touched by him..._

Obi-Wan had taken a step closer, and it was so easy to lean forwards and rest her cheek against his tunic, so natural to slip her arms around his waist. With a quiet sigh he pulled her against his body, one arm sliding across her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. His lips touched her hair; and she let them stay there for a few breaths, memorising the sensation of being wrapped in him, of being safe. _Gods, this is so difficult_.

Then she lifted her head, pulling back as far as his arms would allow her. _Don't let me go. Please, Obi-Wan, don't ever let me go._

Mistaking her action, he looked down at her. Smiled. Raised a hand to her face. Moved to kiss her.

She knew that if his lips touched hers she would be lost. _Stop him you idiot. Have some backbone, you foolish girl._

She turned her head at the last moment. Closed her eyes. Shut him out. "Wait. Stop."

"What is it?" he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

One last chance. She took a breath. "There _is_ something you can say to help me."

"Hmm?"

Tell me what happened between you and my father on Nelvaan."

He dropped his hand, letting his arms slacken. "I told you what happened."

"No. I mean what _really_ happened."

He pulled back. "I don't follow."

"What does military protocol mean?"

"Well it can mean a number of things, depending on the circumstances. I hardly see why this is relevant."

"Commander Drake said your report was suspiciously sparse. And you had told him you would employ military protocol if my father refused to cooperate."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Of course. Your friend, Commander Drake. And you would believe that small-minded, sadistic little twerp over me."

"No. Of course not. But I think I know you well enough to be able to tell when you're hiding something!"

He shook his head, turning to the window. "I have not lied to you."

He wouldn't look at her, damn him! Did he not realise how much this hurt, that he didn't even respect her enough to keep evading her like this?

"Then," she said, letting out a shaky breath, "tell me that you didn't torture my father in order to obtain the toxin sample. Tell me you didn't kill him."

Silence. Nothing but her own breathing, the heat in her cheeks, and the misty fronds of green beyond the glass.

When she turned to look at him, devastation was written on his face. "You believe I am capable of that?"

Her heart twisted. _What have I said. What have I accused him of?_ "Please tell me you're not."

He took a step forward, grasping both her upper arms and looking into her eyes. "Chloe. I did not torture your father. I did not kill your father. He died in the explosion. You must believe me."

She looked up at him, searching his face, looking for the truth in his eyes: gray and stormy in the flat, hazy light.

He shook her a little. "Do you believe me?"

Tears of relief blurred her vision. She nodded.

Satisfied, he let go.

Gathering her courage, she forced herself to speak again. "So tell me what really happened."

He laughed unpleasantly, shaking his head. "Will you not just take my-"

"Is it classified?"

"No."

"Then I don't understand why you can't tell me."

Obi-Wan's expression tightened, his jaw set, and he looked at her, eyes cold. When he spoke, his voice was deliberately calm. "I'm sorry Chloe. You'll just have to trust me. And if you can't trust me, then..."

"Then what?"

"I don't know."

Chloe waited, counting her breaths. _One. Two. Three._ She argued with herself, silently, one last time.

She couldn't look at him when she said it. "Your world... it's too much for me. I don't think I can fit myself into it, not in the way you want. I don't think I will ever be able to. Perhaps it would be better to end things between us now, than prolong the inevitable."

Obi-Wan stared out of the window, and was silent for so long that she thought he might not have heard her. "I see."

Chloe took a long breath and stood up straight, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her, even she was left empty and desperately sad. "You don't seem surprised."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "It has happened before."

"Oh." _So nothing special, Chloe. Nothing at all special_...

"Chloe."

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry about your father. I truly am."

"It's okay. I'd just rather not talk about it any more."

"Right."

"I should go." _I don't want to go. Please tell me not to go._

"As you wish."

So easy it was, for him. Like blossom from a spinoa tree in the first breezes of spring. And Chloe had been foolish to hope that he might have argued, that he might have fought for her, that he might have _cared_. Too late to change her mind now.

"Goodbye, Obi-Wan."

"Wait." He was looking at her with some uncertainty, hesitating over something. A faint murmur of hope stirred in her chest.

"Yes?"

"I... I value our friendship, Chloe. I hope we can remain... cordial."

Polite to the last, that was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Of course. I'll call you," she lied.

When she fled the room, she was so focused on holding herself together that she barely registered the noise behind her. Something like a chair being sent crashing into a wall.

* * *

As her transport slogged through the gray drizzle of the Coruscant afternoon, Chloe stared, unseeing at the traffic, and forced herself to face facts. Much as she wanted to blame Obi-Wan, he had been honest with her right from the beginning. He had warned her that their relationship could never be normal; that he could never commit himself or lose control of his emotions; that he had to deal with every situation with complete clarity and calm.

Only about one thing had he been wrong. He had once spoken of love. He had thought the Jedi capable of love. _But, a formula for you, Master Kenobi. A scientific fact for you and your kriffing rationality. Attraction plus affection does not equal love._

Not love as Chloe understood it. Not at she had felt it, for him.

And the final, cruel irony was this. No man would ever be able to replace him. Even if the person she'd fallen in love with had never really existed at all.

* * *

**A/N. **I don't know when I'm going to get the chance to write more of this story. *Cries*. I have so little time and energy to devote to writing at the moment it's almost impossible to make sensible progress. Anyway, as I've had a few comments recently asking about updates I thought I should probably share this chapter (it's been waiting on my hard drive for a couple of months). I really don't want to leave the story on such a low point - there's much more to come, honestly, but I'm not going to update until I have a good chunk written, preferably right to the end. Sadly I really don't know when I'll get time to write again. Thanks for reading so far, everyone, and MTFBWY :).


	20. When It Hurts With Every Heartbeat

**Chapter 20: When It Hurts With Every Heartbeat**

She stood on wet sand, at the edge of a gray ocean. Waves broke a few metres ahead, and each surge of cold water around her ankles tugged at her, insistently, as it retreated, trying to wash away the sand beneath her feet. The sky was overcast, the wind harsh against her face. Chloe pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and hugged her arms around her body.

"Let me help with that." From behind, Obi-Wan slipped his arms around her, resting his cheek, cold and damp, against hers.

She smiled. "You're crazy. It's far too cold for swimming."

He kissed her neck, letting his wet hair flop forwards against her skin, making her shiver.

"It's invigorating. You should try it," he said, unwrapping himself from her, taking her hand and pulling her towards the breakers.

"No," she said, half-laughing with him, at first. The water swelled above her knees, pulling with silent, menacing strength. "No, don't, please. I mean it."

Obi-Wan held her steady against the tug of the current, one arm around her wait. "I'm sorry," he said, and smoothed salt-tangled strands of hair back from her forehead so he could place his lips there. His fingers drifted down her temple, cheek, and neck, coming to rest on her shoulder, and then he pulled back, looking into her eyes. "Forgive me."

She studied him: his face, his solemn expression, his eyes, as gray as stone, and Chloe realised he was no longer apologising for frightening her, but asking for forgiveness for something much more serious. What was it? She did not know, but she couldn't bear to be the source of his anguish, so she nodded, and hoped that would be enough.

Clearly relieved, he ran his thumb lightly down her cheek, and then drew her into a kiss.

The water surged around them, but he held her fast, the kiss unbroken, deliberate and measured. Controlled. It was bliss and agony at the same time; although he might have infinite patience, Chloe certainly did not, and it had been so long, _so, so long_ since he'd touched her like this, and she hungered, craved, _needed_ more.

She tried an accidentally-on-purpose flick of her tongue against his lip, and she felt him smile, but he continued, just as restrained. So, just to make herself absolutely clear, she reached up and slid both hands into his hair, pulling herself onto tiptoes in the effort to wrench him closer. With a noise that was midway between a sigh and a moan, he relented, and sank his tongue against hers. She gasped as his cold fingers found exposed skin at the bottom edge of her sweater, sliding inside, up, over her ribs—

When bright light exploded in the sky, silently, somewhere to the west.

_What?_ Chloe jerked back in alarm.

Light. Blinding light. _Too bright, what is it?_

She twisted, tumbling, disorientated, turning her head, burying it in the pillow.

Wait. _Pillow? _

"Hey, sleepyhead, time to get up!"

No. Not now! Not when she could feel his hands on her, taste his lips…

"C'mon Chloe, wakey-wakey!"

Chloe tried valiantly to ignore Matty's voice and burrow back into the dream, focusing on the sand beneath her toes, the cold water, the sensation of being held by him…

"Obi-Wan," she whispered, urgently. "Obi-Wan, come back…"

But he was gone.

Although her eyes were screwed shut, Chloe knew she was back in her bed, in her apartment, in her unremarkable suburb of Coruscant.

Back home. Back to reality.

No beach. No ocean. No Obi-Wan, with his treacherously delicious mouth.

"Coruscant to Chloe O'Brian, Do you read me?"

And there was only Matty Jakks, whom Chloe loved very much, but who, right now, was certainly the most annoyingly loud and persistent person she had ever met.

Chloe pushed the pillow off her face and let out a long, weary sigh.

Matty's curvy figure was silhouetted by the bright morning sunshine streaming through Chloe's bedroom window. "Don't tell me you've been dreaming about him again."

Chloe sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Did anyone ever tell you your timing is terrible?" She sighed again. "It was so _real_," she said, reaching to her cheek which she could swear was still tingling from the scratch of his stubble.

Matty sat on the bed. "Poor girl," she said, squeezing Chloe's hand. "I swear if Obi-Wan Kenobi ever crosses paths with me, he's going to regret it."

"It's not his fault. It's my wonky brain coming up with this stuff."

"Uh-uh." Matty expression was severe as she leaned forwards. "None of that. Rule number one hundred and thirty-two. It's _always_ his fault."

Chloe smiled weakly, and Matty grinned back. "That's better. " She stood up. "Now get dressed. Day one of your recovery program, remember? Step number one is breakfast, and it's in critical danger of becoming lunch."

* * *

Chloe prodded her extra-crispy bacon, pulled a face, and sat back in her seat.

"You want to know what I think?" Matty was saying. What I _really_ think?"

Chloe shrugged. "Sure."

"He's a rake. A player."

"Ha ha."

"No, I mean it. That Jedi-bullshit line about not being able to commit? It's a dream of an excuse. He gets you in his bed, no strings attached, and then, when you can't cope any more, because it was a ridiculous thing to agree to in the first place, it's _you_ that ends up having to break up with _him_. How convenient! And he walks away, with his conscience clear. Pah!"

Matty didn't know the full truth, of course. Still under the jurisdiction of the Republic's secrecy laws, Chloe couldn't tell her friend anything about the Nelvaan mission, or, even though she longed to be able to confide in someone, the re-emergence of her father. Matty's take on what remained—the less exceptional details of the course of Chloe and Obi-Wan's relationship—was unabashedly cynical.

"It's not like that. He's different. It's… complicated," Chloe said, lamely. She didn't believe Matty, not in her heart. But then her heart, by every conceivable measure, was rather stupid.

"If he was so special he wouldn't have hurt you."

"Now you're making me feel even more of an idiot."

"His fault, remember. _His _fault. I'm sure you're not the first one to have been taken in by his charms. You are something of an innocent, and you coped admirably, under the circumstances, well at least as far as I can tell given whatever else happened was important enough for it to be off-limits for discussion at this breakfast table. Anyway, what's the matter with your breakfast? " Matty frowned and waved her fork at Chloe's uneaten food. "I know it's only been two weeks and you're lovesicky-sick, but you can't tell me you're not hungry. You're usually always hungry."

"I think he's going to take more than a couple of weeks to get over." _Maybe my whole life..._

Matty frowned. "What time did you go to bed last night?"

"Um, just before ten."

"And the night before that?"

"Same, I was tired. I'm always tired these days. What is this, the Malastarian inquisition? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Matty combined a talent for getting straight to the point with a penchant for melodrama. "Chloe," she said, and then paused, carefully putting down her fork. "Please tell me there's no possibility that you could be pregnant."

Chloe snorted. "I doubt it. The Jedi take supplements to prevent it. Obi-Wan said—"

Matty held up her hand. "Let me rephrase that. All I have to go on are freaky dreams, exhaustion, and loss of appetite. Now, please tell me, aside from the disreputable promises of the man who broke your heart, that you are not carrying his child."

"I…. well…" Chloe's monthly cycle had always been erratic, especially in times of stress, so she'd never paid much attention to dates. But she was late, by as much as two weeks, perhaps, although she didn't feel pregnant—whatever pregnant felt like. She couldn't be pregnant. Could she? She blinked, and waved the thought away. "No, no. Of course not."

* * *

Later, when Matty had left for an evening assignment, leaving Chloe with a stack of holovids, a double portion of home-made chocolate mousse, and strict instructions not to mope, Chloe discovered they'd run out of… dental floss, yes, that was it. And so she went for a walk to the all-night store two blocks away, to buy some more.

While she was there, she picked up a pregnancy test. Just to set her mind at ease.

Hands shaking, she headed straight to the 'fresher as soon as she got home and took the test, and then placed it upside-down on the coffee table and set her chrono for the requisite five minute wait. Hugging her arms around herself, she crossed to the window, watching the skittering lights of the night-time traffic while she waited, and considered the terrifying possibility that the test might be positive.

Chloe had never wanted children. It just wasn't something that she saw herself doing. Ever. Babies might be cute, but they were also noisy, and messy, and a huge responsibility. And what about Obi-Wan? Could she tell him? Did he have a right to know? Would he _want_ to know?

_Obi-Wan's child_. As she exhaled the thought her imagination conjured up the image of a little girl with blue-green eyes and long, auburn hair, walking along a grassy path, holding Obi-Wan's hand.

Ridiculous, of course, and he'd probably be horrified at the thought. He'd told her as much. Life as a Jedi left no space for marriage or children. So what would she do? There were pills, medical procedures, easily available in a metropolis like this… yet that was even more unthinkable than the idea of herself as a mother. She could always go home, apologise, transfer the rest of her course to the Institute. Her own mother would probably be delighted.

And what advice would her mother give her? Most likely she would, her typically dismissively way, tell Chloe that she'd just have to manage, as countless women had done before her. And although the idea of being pregnant was almost unthinkable, Chloe realised there it was strangely comforting and faintly beautiful in the notion that her disaster of an affair with Obi-Wan could result in something so many people regarded as joy—as a gift. And, a stray thought whispered quietly to her, the child, the tiny life that could be flickering inside her right now, was a part of him, and so they would always be connected, forever, whether he knew it or not.

The chrono beeped. She set her empty glass down on table, and turned it the test over.

_Negative._

She checked the instructions again.

Yes, definitely negative.

By all logical reasoning she should be feeling hugely relieved.

Then why was did she feel empty?

Bereft.

Disappointed.

_Because I'm stupid, that's why. Stupid, and hopeless, and I need to let go, and move on, damn it. _

She kicked out at the coffee table in frustration, sending the pile of holovids toppling to the floor, then flopped down on the couch, her head in her hands.

_Enough. It ends here._

This would be the low point, she decided. The watershed. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the rest of her life, and she would be strong, and independent, and she would forget about Obi-Wan. Completely and utterly.

Forever.

* * *

A/N: Hello there! I'm back, and hoping to make up for my absence by posting chapters at reasonable intervals... like not every 3 months:) Thanks for the reviews and messages, I really had no expectation that anyone was going to read this story when I originally started writing it, but now you guys are giving me the motivation to see it through to the end. Ooh and I have a question. Would anyone be interested in reading Obi-Wan's POV in all of this? Because I've been writing some snapshots of what he's thinking, and I kind of hate to keep you all in the dark. I'm considering posting them as a separate fic. Let me know what you think!


	21. In Pursuit Of Happiness

**Chapter Twenty-One: In Pursuit of Happiness**

"You know what I need?" Chloe said, one morning, as Matty poured steaming tea into their cups.

"What?"

"A vacation."

"Good idea. Except for the whole galactic war thing. Might... you know, make it a _teensy_ bit difficult."

"There's no harm in dreaming."

"In your case young lady, I think you'll find it is. But you want to know what will work just as well?"

"Cryogenic suspension?"

"A night out."

"Oh. Well, I guess so… as long as it's somewhere quiet. Not a dance club or anything."

But Matty was already halfway to her bedroom. "That reminds me," she called back. "I picked a present up for you on my travels."

Chloe followed her cautiously. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Rooting through her half-unpacked suitcase, Matty snorted. "Because you have a downer on life at the moment, but don't worry, because I have an extremely _good feeling_ about..." She pulled out a package wrapped in bright red tissue paper and deposited it in Chloe's hands. "This."

Chloe opened the parcel, and frowned. "You want me to dress like a street walker?"

"Nonsense. It's fashion, darling. The very latest V'eeni di M'eeni."

"Who-di-who?" Chloe held up the scraps of silver material, trying to work out which was a top and which was a skirt before noticing Matty was pulling out something else. Something very purple. "And what's _that_?"

Matty grinned, advancing towards her. "Let me show you. Hold very still."

She worked carefully, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. "A good wig is the best confidence-booster, and they're all the rage this season." She spun Chloe to the ornate over-sized mirror propped up opposite her bed. "Wearing this, you can be anyone you want."

Chloe inspected her reflection, tilting her head and watching in wonder as the stranger in the mirror tipped their violet-hued head, waist-length locks of glossy artificial hair swinging in response. She could be an actress… a dancer… or more importantly someone very _not_ Chloe O'Brian. And that, she realised, was exactly what she needed.

"See?"

Chloe smiled. "I love you, Matilda Jakks."

Matty primped her hair. "I know. Now, scented bath. Glass of wine. Make-up, nails, aforementioned high couture dress and wig. Then we'll hit the town and dance till we drop, or until you wipe Obi-Wan Kenobi out of your mind, whichever's first. How's that for a Jedi mind trick?"

Chloe crossed her eyes. "Obi-who?"

Matty beamed. "That's my girl."

* * *

"How you doing?" Matty mouthed, only a foot away but almost inaudible over the thumping base of the music blasting across the club.

"Fantastic!" Chloe yelled back, downing her drink and holding out her hand to let Matty pull her back to the throng of bodies.

Matty grinned and twirled under Chloe's arm, her bright red wig bouncing to the beat of the music.

Chloe closed her eyes as she danced, relishing the sensation of letting go completely, responding to the rhythm without thought or worry about how badly coordinated she might look, feeling the emotion of the music, and not caring about anything else.

They danced. They drank, and they danced some more. Half a dozen sweet _catzoa_ cocktails later, back at the bar, Matty leaned in to Chloe's ear. "Two guys behind us, the taller one's been looking your way for the last twenty minutes."

Chloe looked around, noticed the tall young man: his messy, spiky dark blonde hair, his fashionable black tunic.

"You want them to come over?" Matty said. "Ah—too late. They didn't need much encouragement."

"Never mind," Chloe slurred, realising the alcohol might have affected her more than she'd thought. _Damn those sugary cocktails..._

Matty looked at someone behind Chloe's back, flashing that perfect, inviting smile. "Hi." She nudged Chloe until she turned round.

"Oh. Hi,"Chloe said.

The tall man smiled, showing beautifully white teeth. He reached out to take Chloe's hand, kissing it instead of shaking it. Her mood was lubricated by liquor and emboldened by her costume, so instead of feeling awkward, as she normally would, she giggled and smiled up at him. His eyes were a fetching shade of pale green, his skin very pale, his smile a little nervous. He was young, she thought. Younger than her.

"I'm Brock," he said.

"I'll just be over there," Matty whispered into her ear. "Have fun."

"Oh, but I don't want…"

But Matty had gone, and Brock was watching her, waiting for something. "Oh," Chloe said, "I mean… _hi_. Nice to meet you. I'm ..., um Electra."

"So, can I get you another drink? Or perhaps you might like to dance?"

Chloe's eyes rested on the pale skin at the open throat of his shirt. Conversation was not what she needed, and he seemed nice enough. "Dance. Let's go."

Lost in the music once again, buzzing from the alcohol and sugar mix, Chloe closed her eyes, forgetting her worries, her unhappiness, her neuroses. She felt Brock's hands on her hips, lightly first, then a little more confident, and the contact felt good. As the music changed tempo, slowing to a swaying rhythm, he pulled her closer, until their bodies met. She laughed, just about to prise him away when he dipped his head and planted his lips against hers, pushing her mouth open almost immediately and thrusting his tongue inside.

Just a kiss, and yet it was horrible. A sudden invasion, an imposed intimacy that assumed so much, that felt unequivocally _wrong_. Chloe shoved him away, swaying drunkenly while he looked down at her, confused and a little annoyed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, feeling sick as she realised the taste of bitter ale on her tongue had come from the inside of his mouth. "That was a mistake. I can't. I... just… can't."

Now Brock looked even more annoyed. Mumbling another apology Chloe turned sharply and headed off into the crown, searching desperately for Matty.

She found her at the bar, alone.

"Hey. Where's loverboy?"

Chloe shook her head, still feeling queasy. "I need to get out of here."

Matty slipped off the bar stood. "Okay. Come on. You're looking a little the worse for wear. Let's go."

Outside, they trudged together through the neon-lit streets, arms linked, thick coats keeping out the cool, damp night air.

"Hey, let's try in here."

"_The Ambassador_?" Chloe said, raising an eyebrow at the elegant black frontage of one of Coruscant's most exclusive bars. "Dressed like this?"

Matty tutted. "It's designer, remember? And besides, I know one of the doormen."

"Now why does that not surprise me."

"I worked with his mother once. One of those family tragedy stories, multiple siblings in the military, killed within days of each other. He was the only one left, so he got brought back. Ah. There he is." She stepped right up to the front of the queue. "Hey Milo."

The stocky, crop-haired doorman took a second to recognise her, but when he did, the smile transformed his features into something much less intimidating. "Miss Jakks! What brings you here?"

"Any chance you could squeeze us into the Balcony Bar?"

Milo looked behind him, then down the line, before nodding and ushering them inside. "Just keep clear of the Rivoli Suite. Big function going on, strictly private, no journalists allowed, even if they are off duty. More than my job's worth, and all that."

Matty smiled. "Don't worry. We're not here to spot celebs. Won't even notice them."

The bar, which had a panoramic view of the Coruscant skyline, was exquisitely decorated, artfully lit, and played a tasteful selection of music. Chloe relaxed into her deep, plush seat and sipped her pale violet, slightly sparkling, non-alcoholic cordial.

"Are you all right?" Matty said. "You've been very quiet since we got here."

"I think I'm too old for making out with random boys. Especially ones who kiss like that."

"Bad, eh?"

"I couldn't stand it. I'd forgotten what it could be like. Obi-Wan was—" She stopped herself.

"So he was good in bed," Matty scoffed. "I guessed as much. I knew there had to be a payoff, somewhere, for you. But there are plenty more out there, believe me."

"I think I'm done with all men for a long time. That way there'll be no danger of unfortunate comparisons."

"Good idea."

Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Hey, you didn't spot the bathroom on the way in, did you? I'm beginning to regret all those cocktails."

"Actually, no."

"Since we're not supposed to be here, and since you're much better than me at looking like you know where you're going when you don't have a clue, fancy helping me find it?"

When a leisurely promenade of the room hadn't been successful, they decided to extend their search to the foyer. There they found the facilities, but on the way out they managed to take a wrong door and end up in a corridor that opened onto a dim, thickly-carpeted antechamber.

"Hey look," Chloe spotted the balustrade ahead. Peering over it, they could see another, larger room below. A sign over the closed double-doors read _Rivoli Suite_.

"Ah," Chloe said, her voice hushed. "So this is the place we're definitely not supposed to be."

But before she could suggest they retraced their steps, the doors below them opened. She heard laughter, and a male voice so familiar she froze on the spot.

He was with someone. A woman. Dressed in a midnight-blue satin gown, her dark hair was glossy and fell in thick curls down her back. She was elegant, and beautiful, and her arm was linked through Obi-Wan's, which would all have been fine if it were not that they were also holding hands, her fingers, delicate and pale, intertwined with his. It was an unmistakably intimate gesture.

When Obi-Wan glanced up, Chloe jerked back, out of his line of sight, hoping he wouldn't have recognised her in dress and wig, and in doing so bumped into Matty, who peered over her shoulder and then took in an audibly sharp breath.

Chloe watched the couple head across to a set of external doors. They paused there, for a moment. Obi-Wan was facing away, but Chloe could clearly see the woman's face, and the perfect curve of her lips as she smiled up at him. Chloe recognised that expression.

_She's in love with him._

Obi-Wan was speaking, but he was too quiet for Chloe to make out. He kissed the woman's forehead, put an arm around her back, and guided her outside.

Chloe took a long breath and let it out, shakily.

_I can do this. He's a free man. Good luck to him, and to her._

"They look very comfy_," _Matty said.

Chloe frowned. "It's all right. She might just be a friend."

But she didn't believe it, not from their body language.

"You didn't recognise her?" Matty said.

"Oh, erm, no. Should I?"

"His old flame, if you believe the gossip. Sabé Essara."

"I thought she was married."

"Divorced. And landed herself one of the largest estates on Alderaan in the process."

"Oh. So I guess he got over me."

No matter how much she tried to ignore it, the pain wouldn't go away. She'd never felt so empty, so cold, and so alone, even with her best friend standing by her side.

And she could not rid her head of the woman's expression as she looked up at Obi-Wan, and of her pale hand clasped in Obi-Wan's, their fingers intertwined.

* * *

"Well hi there lovie," Dex said. "There was me thinking you'd moved offworld without saying goodbye. How's Obi-Wan these days? What've you two been up to?"

"We, erm... split, Dex. A few weeks back," Chloe said, hitching herself onto one of the high stools at the counters as Dex served out her usual coffee. In truth she had been avoiding this place, and its memories.

"Aww, I'm sorry. There I go, putting my foot in it. What went wrong? You two seemed a pre-tty perfect match to me."

Chloe took the coffee and paid him. "I guess it wasn't quite as perfect as I thought. And neither was he."

Dex slid her credits in one of his enormous hands. "Well, I must say I'm sorry to hear that. I've known Obi-Wan a long time, a very long time, and he's truly one of the most honourable beings I've ever met. And I could tell he cared very much about you, little miss."

"Hmm?" she said, half-heartedly. She _really_ didn't want to talk about this.

"Them there Jedi ain't allowed to display their feelings, are they? They keep everything underneath. Hidden-like. But the way he used to look at you… well, it was clear as Ryolite lake crystal to me."

Chloe couldn't help but smile. Under that intimidating exterior, Dex was the planet's biggest softie. "I think you're just a hopeless romantic."

Dex was about to reply when Chloe's comlink beeped. She checked the caller ID and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry Dex. I'd better take this."

Transferring her coffee to the table at the farthest back corner of the diner, Chloe slid on to the bench seat and activated the com. "Anakin?"

"Chloe, how are you?"

"Yeah, thanks. Um, this is a surprise…"

"Look, I don't know how best to say this so I'll come straight to the point. I need to talk to you. It's about Obi-Wan."

"Oh. You know we're done, right? Whatever it is, it isn't my business any more."

"Well, this is, actually, and I wouldn't be calling if I didn't think it was in your interests as well as his."

"This all sounds very mysterious. Go on."

"I think it would be easier if I could talk to you in person."

"Um, well I'm pretty free this morning, Do you want to meet up? I could get the shuttle over."

"No, there's talk of a security situation brewing. I'll come and get you. Where are you now?"

"Dex's Diner, CoCo Town. You know it?"

"Stay there. I'll be with you in twenty minutes."

They signed off and Chloe waved at Dex, indicating her empty cup.

"Time for one more?" he called.

But, before she could answer, the air shattered into heat and brilliant white light, and a scream that she eventually realised was coming from her.

Then time stretched, and her thoughts and everything else were in slow motion, and she knew she had to get away, but somehow she was flying through the air amidst tables and stools and torn metal and glass, and smashing against something hard, with a sickening crack that she could only pray wasn't her skull.

* * *

Chloe woke up on the floor, her forehead squashed against a broken table. No pool of blood, thank heaven, so it must have been the table she'd heard break. Gingerly, she raised her head and searched her body for injuries. She was a little battered, one arm was scraped and she had a shallow cut to the leg, but it barely stung. Relieved, thankful for her good fortune, relatively speaking, at least, she sat up and looked around.

There had only been a handful of beings in the diner. A group of three girls seemed to have escaped as lightly as Chloe and were in various stages of getting to their feet. But over by the window, a man was lying on the floor, groaning. A woman crouched over him.

Chloe got to her feet and crossed to his side, her shoes crunching over the translucent granules that littered the floor. Dex's windows had been made of crumple glass. That had probably saved all their lives.

Which reminded her…

"Dex?" she called out, as she checked the man for injuries. "Dex, are you okay?"

No reply. _Oh no. Oh, please no… _

"Takes more than a tickle like that to beat me," came the reply, with a grunt, as Dex appeared from behind the counter, wiping his forehead with the back of one wrist.

Chloe grinned. "Then I could use some water here."

Chloe did her best to wash and dress the deep cut on the man's leg with an improvised bandage torn from his coat, and reassured his friend that it looked much worse than it was.

Once they'd called through to the nearest medcenter to request an evacuation for the injured man, Chloe joined Dex at the blown-out window. In the distance, a threatening plume of black smoke coiled into the blue sky.

"You think they hit the Senate?" Chloe said.

"One way to find out," Dex shuffled over to the bank of screens along the opposite wall. They were all cracked. "On second thoughts," Dex said, and disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing a few moments later with a portable holoprojector.

After long minutes of painstaking tuning, he finally found a news channel.

"…explosions at multiple locations across the central districts," a reporter was saying. "Citizens are advised to make their way to the nearest storm shelter, or, if their route is blocked, to remain indoors and await further information. That news again: the capital has been rocked by a serious of suspected terrorist bombings. The Senate building is believed to be amongst the targets. We have no casualty figures at this time, but it could prove to be the worst attack Coruscant has ever seen. Stay tuned for the latest, first and accurate, here, on Cee-One-News, your number one choice for…"

Chloe was already searching for her comlink. No good. It was smashed in half. What should she do now? According to protocol, she should report to the local military service kiosk, as all those with security clearance were required to do under these circumstances. Based on her credentials they should be able to give her terminal access. Then she'd have a chance of being some help.

Where are you going?" Dex called, as she headed for the door. "It's not safe out there."

Chloe ignored him and stepped out into the street. Damaged by the blast, sidewalk platform swayed under her feet, and Chloe swayed with it as she ran towards the skybridge that would take her to the service kiosk.

Just as she was about to start up the steps, someone called out behind her.

"Chloe? Chloe O'Brian?"

She turned to see a blonde-haired woman leaning out of the window of a closed-topped speeder.

"I'm from Intel Corps," the woman called out. "Can you come with me right away? The Jedi Temple have requested your services."

Chloe crossed to the speeder. Anakin must have contacted IC to fetch her.

_But why would he—_

"Get in," the woman interrupted her thoughts, and the rear door of the speeder slide open. "Make yourself comfortable." Her eyes flicked from Chloe's to something behind and to Chloe's left.

Instinctively, Chloe turned her head.

Behind her stood a thickset man dressed entirely in black. A mirrored visor covered his eyes. "But not too comfortable," he said, with an unpleasant smile, and shoved her, hard, into the speeder.

"What the… who are you?" she started, but then felt, and saw, the blaster as he dug it into her ribs.

"Sit still and shut up," he said. "Or you won't live to find out."

* * *

A/N: Evil cliffie, wahaha, sorry! And two updates in less than a week, can you tell I'm impatient to share this story? :)

Some people said they'd be interested in Obi-Wan's thoughts, so I've complete the first part of some story snippets from his POV: the fic is entitled "Walking the Line", and it's up now!


	22. Caught in the Crossfire

A/N: Sorry this is took longer than intended, I've been away, and sick, and this chapter needed a little more editing than I realised. This is something I've been waiting to get to for a very long time. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Caught in the Crossfire**

Coruscant was in chaos. The speeder cut efficiently through the disorganised traffic, and as they made a sweeping turn up to the speedway level used for long-distance traffic, Chloe caught a glimpse of a column of smoke rising from a building whose distinctive dome was silhouetted by the fading pink sunset. So the news report at Dex's had been correct. The Senate had been hit.

Chloe risked a glance at the man next to her, inscrutable behind his mirrored visor. His blaster was still digging painfully into her side. "You don't need to keep that thing pointed at me," she said. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

His lips curled into a smile, and he put his hand on her leg. "Ask me nicely, and I might move it."

_Oh, great._

She glared at him, noticing that her reflection looked far more annoyed than afraid. And, she realised, that was exactly how she felt. How _dare_ they take her, like this? Who _were_ they, anyway?

_Calm down, Chloe. Now is not the time._

And since when did she think in Obi-Wan's voice?

_Just go along with them. Avoid confrontation._

_Okay, okay. I know._

She offered the man a tight-lipped smile. "Would you please move your blaster."

Tilting his head, he let his mouth hang open while trailing the blaster down her hip, then along the hem of her skirt. Feeling slightly sick, she stared straight ahead, at the bright blonde hair of the woman driving, hoping vaguely that if she ignored him he might lose interest. He chuckled, but didn't say anything else, and seconds later she felt the blaster leave her leg.

The sun had set by the time they left the speedway, descending between massive industrial buildings that stood like great ugly tree trunks in a black, bottomless sea. A tall, twin-towered building loomed ahead. Her captor tapped his comlink. "Base, this is Vagabond One. Let the boss know we've arrived."

The speeder dropped through the remaining levels, pausing before an arched gateway at the very base of the building. With a thud and a groan of un-lubricated metal, the door slid open, and through they went, into pitch darkness.

Chloe was manhandled out of the speeder and marched along-along… what? _A corridor? A tunnel?_ She couldn't tell. The floor was rough beneath her feet. They started up a series of steps, far too quickly given they were walking blind, and inevitably Chloe stumbled. Someone—instinct told her it was still him, the man with the visor—cursed and hauled her to her feet, hand like a vice on her elbow pulling her up the rest of the steps even more quickly, even more roughly.

They were on level ground again, smoother underfoot than before, when the darkness faded to greenish-gray, and then a door opened up ahead. Chloe flinched, scrunching up her eyes against bright light.

At the other side, two black-clad, grim-faced guards were waiting. The taller of the two ran a hand –held weapon scanner over her while the other spoke quietly to the man with the visor, who clearly must have been the one accompanying her.

The scanner beeped softly. "Okay," the shorter guard said. "Take her through."

Beyond a second door the space opened out into a cavernous room, several stories tall. It was cold, and Chloe's breath misted the air. The man led her along the centre of the room, past a series of pillars that stretched from floor to ceiling, each one encased in a huge spiral coil of cabling. There were no windows on the walls, only massive control panels, their viewscreens and indicator lights dark and lifeless.

They stopped just before the central pillar, around which a living room-sized space had been walled off by a cube of transparent plexiglass. The nearest wall had a door, which the man opened, and led her inside, shoving her back against the pillar. He pulled out a couple of plastic tie-cords and lashed each of her wrists to the cabling. Avoiding eye contact, she looked at the floor. A peeling logo was printed onto the floor by her feet: a lightning bolt inside a circle. It was the signature of MegaCorps, Coruscant's largest power company.

Chloe started in surprise when the man pressed a clammy hand to her cheek, leaning close so she could smell his putrid breath. "Stay here." Laughing, he retreated to the outside of the cube, and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the door open.

Cloe bit her lip and leaned her head back against the pillar. So, the planet was under attack, and she was in a disused power station in the bowels of a district that was already the back of nowhere. It could be considered a good place to spend some time, if it were not pretty clear that she hadn't been brought here for her own safety. Who was the boss her captor had spoken about? And what was he—or she—going to do with her?

When a figure finally appeared at the doorway, Chloe's first question was answered, and she was pretty sure she didn't want to know the answer to the second.

Tall. Grey-bearded. Clad entirely in black, his cloak held in place by an elaborate silver clasp.

The Republic's most wanted man.

The leader of the so-called Confederacy of Independent Systems.

_Ranario Dooku Gerianus d'Serenno._

Known to the masses, more simply, as Count Dooku.

If she had not been restrained, Chloe would have looked behind her.

What could _he_ possibly want from _her_?

Standing an arm's length away, Dooku scrutinised her with a look that seemed to scour her soul.

"So this is Karl O'Brian's daughter," he said, in an accent disturbingly similar to Obi-Wan's. "It is a shame we must meet in these circumstances. For a time your father had hoped you might follow in his footsteps, and work for us."

Speechless, filled with revulsion, Chloe simply stared at him.

"He was dedicated to our struggle, and his weapon stands as testimony to that."

Outraged, she finally found her voice. "My father was a decent man. He would have died rather than work for you."

The Count raised an eyebrow. "You still believe that?" He took a step closer, and pressed a cold, gloved finger under her chin, tilting her face upwards. She could smell his fancy cologne and the leather of his gloves. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he focused on something distant. Then he smiled. "You really do. How… charming."

Abruptly, Dooku glanced behind, to the door. "Status, Morlan. Do we have him on com?"

Chloe could not make out the muffled reply. Dooku turned his attention back to Chloe. "It seems we have a few minutes to pass, my dear. Perhaps I can enlighten you as to your father's true allegiances. Let me help your memory a little."

He did not touch her, but she felt him, a presence, darkness crawling over her scalp, like some kind of awful insect, searching for a soft point, a crack, a place to burrow in, and the worst thing was she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. Dooku had been a Jedi once, Chloe knew that, and despite his prominent role as a Separatist, he was widely regarded as a man of integrity, a gentleman, somehow distant from the atrocities his side often perpetrated. This, though, what he was poised to do to her, violate her mind—surely this could not be a technique the Jedi condoned? Dooku might be an aristocrat, but he was no gentleman. A gentleman would not—

Dooku's breath hitched just a fraction of a second before Chloe felt something within her slip, and she steeled herself, anticipating pain or whatever unspeakable horror he was about to unleash.

But instead she found herself gasping as a thousand images flooded her mind. Not just images, but memories, complete with sounds and smells and the self-centred, innocent emotions of a child.

Dooku smiled, and Chloe recognised that smile.

She recognised him. She _knew_ him.

Self-satisfied didn't even come close to describing his expression. "You remember," he said.

"You used to come to my house." Her voice was hoarse with disbelief.

"Yes, my dear. Of course I did. Your father and I were good friends."

"You tricked him. Used your power to twist his mind."

Dooku seemed to find her genuinely amusing. "If it were as easy as that, my dear girl, then the war would already be won. Coercion without motivation works only on the weak-minded. Your father could see the corruption in the Senate as clearly as I could. It took no persuasion at all for him to want to dedicate his genius to the greater good."

He was so smooth. So convincing. Chloe felt faint. "No," she croaked.

He ignored her. "Nothing is crueller than nature, as Karl often remarked. And I have to agree there is something exquisite in harnessed that cruelty and power and turning it against those who think themselves to be above nature, beyond discipline and exempt from justice. "

Dooku took a long breath, then smiled. "Such a magnificent scientist. I grieve for him still. Sadly, though, we have no time to reminisce. It is time to proceed with business."

And now Chloe was gripped by a new fear. What exactly was he planning? She opened her mouth to speak, but Dooku had already turned away, to the man with the visor—Morlan, Dooku had called him— who had stepped back inside the cube, one hand to his ear. "Just awaiting confirmation, my lord. Camera's online and ready to roll."

Dooku took a few strides away from Chloe. "Stay clear. Dim the lights." A few seconds later the ambient lighting faded, leaving a single spotlight shining on Chloe's face. She blinked against the brightness, struggling to see.

"We have him, my lord."

"Patch him through to broadcast," Dooku said. There was a painful whine of feedback, then a click as the call connected, followed by the voice she was both hoping, and dreading, to hear.

"…tell them I'm on my way, and to wait for my order. _Don't _let them go in alone, the structure might be damaged and we need to figure out how to get the injured out before we risk and more damage. _Stang_ this speeder, it's slower than a glumworm. How's the Senate district holding up—"

"Master Kenobi," Dooku interrupted, a sly smile in his voice.

"What?" Obi-Wan said. "Speak up, who is this?"

"An old friend."

"_Dooku._" Obi-Wan enunciated the single word with the precise loathing Chloe now felt with every single cell in her body.

"Secure this channel and turn off all other transmissions to and from this vehicle, please."

A pause. "It's done."

"Master Kenobi. I am about to make you an offer, but first I need to make clear that it is for you and only you. Involve anyone else and the offer is immediately void. Do you understand?"

"Just get on with it."

"I'm terribly sorry. You must be a busy man today. But I think you will want to see this."

Dooku nodded at Morlan, who stepped up to Chloe, and pressed the blaster muzzle under her chin. "Speak," he hissed.

"Obi-Wan?" she called out, her voice sounding thin and afraid. "Don't listen to him, whatever—"

"Enough," Dooku interrupted. Take at look at your viewscreen, Master Kenobi."

Silence. Chloe took a breath. Then a second. Then a third before Obi-Wan finally spoke.

"You have my attention."

Dooku smoothed a hand over the sleeve of his cloak, pausing as if to collect his thoughts. "Master Kenobi, in just over an hour, we will be performing a demonstration of the late Professor O'Brian's bio-weapon, the Z-toxin, as you call it. I think have probably become acquainted, by now, with its sophistication and power. The demonstration will be broadcast live on the holonet to best publicise those qualities. However, in order to avoid unnecessary loss of life, the weapon will not be demonstrated on the population at large, but on a single individual."

Dooku's gaze turned to Chloe, and her blood ran cold.

"The subject of the demonstration, as you have probably gathered, is your dear, close friend, Chloe O'Brian."

"Dooku, if you think that—" Obi-Wan began, but Dooku interrupted him.

"Please, let me finish. Now, I imagine that you may find this situation somewhat undesirable." Dooku softened his voice as he continued, "I suspect what she means to you, Obi-Wan. I do not want this to happen any more than you do, and if the decision was mine alone it would not. But, sadly, the demonstration must go ahead. However, I have an alternative to propose. You may take her place."

Sickened, Chloe couldn't stand to look at him. _It's a trick_, she wanted to call out. _Don't believe him; don't believe anything he says._

Silence from Obi-Wan. Dooku nodded to Morlan, who stepped away from Chloe, disappearing out of the door and into the shadows beyond.

"If you wish to take me up on my offer," Dooku went on, "you will report, within forty-five minutes, to the coordinates being sent to you now. You will then be escorted to the location of the demonstration, and Miss O'Brian will be released. I do not need to warn you to come alone, and unarmed. If we have no contact from you within forty-five minutes, we proceed with Miss O'Brian as the subject. At any hint of a breach of these terms, we will proceed immediately. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan's voice was raw with tension."Perfectly."

And that was it. The connection terminated, and Chloe let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Dooku was standing in front of her once again. She could swear he was breathing in her fear. "I'm sorry it has to be this way," he said, in that same, soft voice he had used with Obi-Wan. "If it were not for Kenobi's foolish Padawan involving you in our affairs none of this would have had to happen."

Chloe's cheeks were burning with disbelief, fear, anger, and grief. How could her father have been responsible for the Z-toxin. How _could_ he? "We have an antidote."

"_With_ you?"

She glared at him, and Dooku smiled back, tight-lipped. "The power of a weapon lies not its true destructive capabilities, but in what people _believe_ its capabilities to be. Although surely _you_ don't believe your father would create something that could be so easily defeated? Perhaps you will live to learn the truth. If—and I pray in your father's memory that he will—Obi-Wan Kenobi chooses the honorable path tonight."

Chloe shook her head. "He won't turn himself in for me."

Dooku looked at her intently, then raised an eyebrow. "And how pleased you are to believe that. What a strange child you are." He glanced over his shoulder, as if responding to something Chloe could not see or hear. "Ah, now, sadly, I must bid you farewell, my dear. Duty calls me away from this place."

She watched him turn and leave, heels clicking on the polished floor long after he had disappeared into the darkness.

Chloe slumped against the pillar. Did Dooku really believe _she_ was Obi-Wan's weakness? That she could be used as bait to trap the revered General Kenobi? It was certainly true that a live demonstration of the toxin on one of the Republic's greatest Jedi would be the ultimate propaganda coup, and that it would strike fear into the hearts and minds of populations across the galaxy.

But if there was one thing that Chloe was certain of, one cold, cruel comfort in the oppressing horror of this impossible situation, it was that Dooku was utterly, completely, and foolishly wrong.

Everything Chloe had learned about the Jedi in the past few months, everything she knew about Obi-Wan Kenobi, told her, without question, that he would not come.

Not when the planet was under attack. Not when his duty lay elsewhere. Not when tens of thousands—perhaps even _millions—_of beings needed his help. Not when a great many of them were more important to the Republic than her.

Tonight, she was insignificant.

And she was well and truly on her own.

* * *

A/N: So, dear readers, what do you think? Is Chloe right? Or will Obi-Wan turn himself in? :D


	23. Cry Little Sister

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Cry Little Sister**

It felt like a holonet story, a sad tale from some distant planet, the victim anonymous, some poor unfortunate girl. How could she have been stupid enough to get herself captured like this? Chloe pulled uselessly against her bindings. Twisted awkwardly behind her back, her arms were stiff and sore, and the scratches and bruises earned during the explosion at Dex's were starting to throb and sting.

But wait… what if it was happening to someone else? How would someone much stronger than her deal with it? Matty, for example? If her friend was in this situation, what would she do? What would her story be? Would she stand here, miserably, and await her fate?

Or would she…

And then Chloe realised exactly what Matty would do. The question was, could she pull it off herself? Forty-five minutes, Dooku had said. She must have wasted at least twenty of that, which meant if she was going to attempt this, she had to act now, before she ran out of time, and before fear paralysed her completely.

The tears came quickly. Easily. Her breath hitched. She began to sob.

Then she took a longer breath, steeled herself, and called out into the darkness, where she could just make out the shadow of Morlan standing guard outside her cube. "Excuse me?"

No response.

"Excuse me!"

He stepped up to the doorway. "What?"

Tears run freely down her face. "I need the bathroom. Please. I'm desperate."

He paused for a moment, checking his chrono. With a look back to the direction in which Dooku had left, he moved inside, untied her hands, and held them together, behind her back. "Okay. But we have to be quick."

"Thank you." Chloe suppressed a shudder. Just as she'd expected, Morlan had other ideas about what might happen when they were in the bathroom.

He led her quickly through the large chamber, out through a side door and to an old, tattered bathroom. He ran his hand lightly up and down her bare arm and then shoved her in the direction of the toilet stalls. "Here we are. Now hurry up, then you'll have time to show your gratitude afterwards."

She lurched inside and started to shut the door, but his foot stopped it from closing. "Please." Her voice wobbled without any conscious effort. "Just give me a moment."

He grunted, and withdrew his foot.

With trembling hands she closed the door and slid across the bolt.

Aware that he would be listening to her, she made a lot of noise lifting the toilet lid. She looked around the cubicle frantically. The problem was, she hadn't really believed she would even get this far. She had no plan. So what did she need? A weapon. Were there electical conduits running behind that wall? A live cable would do the job well. She ran her palm over the surface. No edges. No way she could get in.

"You're quiet in there," came the voice from outside.

Chloe's hands were shaking. Her time was running out. Not knowing what else to do, she flushed the toilet. Then the thought struck. She carefully, oh so carefully, eased off the lid of the toilet cistern. Inside, yes, just might do...

A second later he banged on the door. "You finished? Do I have to come in and haul you out?"

Silently, Chloe readied herself and then slid the bolt back, letting the door swing slowly open under its own inertia.

"What the..." he said, pushing the door and taking a step inside.

Just there, a little further, a fraction more... there. _BAM_. She slammed the door into his head, as hard as she could. The second she heard him grunt and begin to stagger, off-balance, she dived out, and in one desperate movement drove the sharp, rusting metal spindle into the exposed skin of his neck, putting all her weight behind the movement, shocked at how easily it buried itself into his flesh.

He grabbed for her, and she would not have jerked back in time, but mid-movement his hands reached to his neck instead, and blood was spurting everywhere, gushing out of the wound she had inflicted, splattering her in face, warm and metallic on her lips, and he was staggering, and falling to his knees, and then toppling, face-first, to the floor.

Chloe stood, unbelieving, unable to move for seconds—minutes, perhaps— before she felt blood drip from her wrist on to her knee, and she relaxed her fingers and let the spindle clatter to the floor. Shaking herself into alertness, she dropped to a crouch by Morlan's side. He was still breathing, rapidly now, in faint, shallow bursts, and groaning, but blood was frothing, pink and disgusting, at his lips, and pouring out of the wound on his neck, and on to the floor, more and more and more of it than seemed physically possible.

"Okay. It's okay. It's okay," she mumbled to herself. "Come on Chloe. Get a grip. Come on. _Come on_." She fumbled, gagging, through the sticky, red warmth for his security pass, and as soon as her fingers closed around the smooth plastic she lurched to her feet and towards the door. She glanced back at him and immediately regretted it, taking in the sight of what she'd done: the bloody, violent mess that had been a person just a short time ago.

_Not me. It couldn't be me. Someone else, let me believe that. _

Then she noticed the red-blotched footprints leading to her feet. Wiping her hands on her trousers, she bent and yanked off her boots, and ran.

She headed in the opposite direction from the room in which she'd been kept, passing doors, air vents, control panels... where to go? It was a huge place, but disused for years by the look of things, so more than likely all the exits were blocked. Down, she should go down, perhaps there was a fire escape somewhere that would take her to street level. Yes, there was a stairwell, plunging her into inky blackness. She clung to the banister, the duracrete cold and unforgiving beneath her bootless feet. On and on she went, down and down, until it seemed like she would surely end up at the planet's core.

But then, she could see light below, a green-tinged haze, and what was that sound? The roar of something... a door blocked her path, partway opened and jammed. She wriggled through. There. She was in some sort of control room. Dead-screened terminals lined one wall, and a bench was strewn with wires and neglected circuit boards. And there, at the top of the opposite wall, a window! Well, not exactly a window, more like a street-level vent. But she could smell the coolness of fresh air, and narrow shafts of what might be street-light pierced the durasteel shutter. The aperture itself would be big enough to fit through, if only... she ran over and wrenched at the shutter, but it was a finger's width thick, and didn't budge in the slightest.

Her heart sinking, panic rising, she looked around. There was another door, in the direction of the noise she'd heard, and she recognised the sound now: rushing water. Of course, the coolant supply for the energy generators must still be flowing. She twisted the handle and pushed against the door, but it was locked. A security keypad was mounted on the frame. What was the chance of it working? She tapped at the keypad, and to her surprise, the display flickered into life. Grinning at her luck, she turned around, scanning the untidy room until she spotted what she was looking for.

Yes, that would do. She yanked the lengths of cable free, hung them around her neck and began sorting through the circuit boards, holding each one up to the light until she found what she was looking for. Working quickly, she bit off the insulation at one end of a cable with her teeth, twisted the wires together and stuck them into the slot on the board. Then she crossed back to the door, tapped at the keys once more, and jammed the end of the cable in the data jack.

The smell of toasted electrical components had never been so good. A second later, the door clicked softly and swung open.

Chloe retrieved her hacked-together electronics, grabbed a flashlight from the rack, and went through, making sure to do the same to the mechanism on the other side, effectively locking the door behind her.

Ahead lay the coolant passage, a sort of underground canal. A narrow footpath ran along a raised platform at one side so she could avoid the channel of water.

Until, that is, the platform ended. A ladder led down into the fast-flowing stream.

It would certainly flow out of the building, at some point. It could carry her to safety. Or it might carry her to even greater danger. The only way to find out was to jump in and see. She had to just do it, without thinking, was that not how she'd survived so far?

Except, she couldn't do it. She backed away from the edge.

Then she heard the banging: booted footfalls somewhere nearby. Probably not in the tunnel; they were too muffled, but nearby. They were looking for her.

She put one foot on the ladder. No time for second thoughts.

The water hit her like a wall of cold fear, and then there was nothing but the chill, hungry speed of it, bitter with chemicals, greasy with oil, carrying her along, stinging her eyes, her nose, burning her throat as she struggled to keep her head above the surface.

Thankfully, the journey did not last long. After only a few seconds there was flash of something ahead, yes, this was it, a rectangular opening, and she could see up, to street level, and she just had time to wonder where in Sith hells this water was going once it was outside before she slammed side-on into the thick durasteel bars that protected the opening, pinned there by the force of the water's flow.

She managed to grab a bar with her right hand and then her left, twisting and tugging until she was upright and her face was clear of the water's foaming surface. Directly ahead, the water sloshed through an even narrower channel, disappearing into the black mouth of a tunnel below the street. Even if she could squeeze between the bars, the sides of the channel were sheer; with nothing to grab hold of she could easily be swept underground—and to Force-knew where—in less than a second.

But if Dooku's men were looked for her, if they _knew _she was down here, then she had no choice. She had to get out. Chloe tried to turn sideways and begin the wriggle herself through the bars. The icy water was already beginning to take its toll on her muscles. Sluggishly, weakened, all the time pummelled by the current, she struggled to move. She cried out in frustration, banging her palm against the bar, and with a second shout managed to jam her hips half-way through. Nearly there, one more push like that would do it…

But then there was an enormous rushing sound, and she just had time to think _oh no_, when the water began to swell and a wave was upon her, submerging her completely, stuck fast as she was, trapped in place.

She thought it was over, then, in that instant; that she would die, even when the surge ebbed, allowing her to take a spluttering breath, she knew was too weak; she couldn't last much longer. She took in what felt like half a lungful of the disgusting water with the next breath. Coughing, retching, she let out a sob as pain ripped through her throat.

"Stars, Chloe! Hang on!"

_What? _

She couldn't see; her eyes were stinging, and blurry with tears. She hunched a shoulder to wipe them on the soaked material of her shirt.

And saw him.

_Obi-Wan._

Discarding his robe on the street, jumping into the water, wading, chest-deep, against the current, closer now, right there, grabbing her weak, wavering, numb hand.

"Obi-Wan," she croaked, "They're coming, they must be, and I can't—"

"Hush. I'm here. You're safe. Listen, Chloe, please. We need to be quick. It looks like they're flushing the drainage system. I need you to let go of me, just for a second. That's it. Now hold on at that side, and turn your head away."

His lightsaber hummed, blue in her peripheral vision, warm on the side of her face, and then the bars that trapped her gave way, and she was swept out, into his arms, and the next second he was holding her tightly and leaping, carrying both of them up, right out of the water and to the street surface.

He lowered her carefully to the ground. Overwhelmed with relief, she clung to him, burying her face against his neck, breathing him in, convincing herself it was over; that he was really here; that she was safe.

"Are you hurt? Did he—they, hurt you?" His voice was tight, and angry, but at the same time his lips brushed her forehead, and his hand, so gentle, was on her neck.

"No, no," she murmured, coughing. "I'm…. I'm fine."

He helped her sit up, and brushed a sodden lock of hair out her eyes. "When you said you'd see me around, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

She attempted a feeble smile, her body and mind still numb with relief, because he was _here_, he'd come for her, and now everything would be okay, and his hand was lingering against her cheek, and eventually she remembered she had no business to be feeling happy about that, so she released her grip on him, glanced down at his tunic and frowned. "You're soaked. I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly." He called his robe to his hand. "Put this on." He tried to help her arms into the sleeves. "Whatever were you thinking? You could have given me a little longer to get here."

"It's fine. I can do it," she said, shrugged him off, coughing, then wincing at the pain in her throat. Then she frowned at him again. "Hang on. You're not telling me Dooku gave you the coordinates to this place?"

"No. But Dex saw you get into the speeder. He fired up his old shuttle and followed you as far as he could. And the rest—well, let's call it a hunch. If you'd just waited a few more minutes…" His voice trailed off.

She looked up at him, into his eyes, washed stone-gray by the moonlight, and the intensity of his expression took her breath away.

"Oh Chloe…" he murmured. "You thought I'd leave you here."

She nodded, and looked away, repeating to herself the reasons they had parted ways in the first place: because he'd hurt her, because she had royally screwed everything up; because he could never feel for her what she felt for him; because she continually failed to understand him in a way that made any kind of logical sense. When that didn't work, she forced herself to remember the incident at the Ambassador; of Sabé Essara, fingers intertwined with his. But even that didn't help. How could he destroy all her intentions with a single look?

_Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are the most confusing person I have ever met._

His voice interrupted her thoughts. "Chloe, sweetheart, are you all right?"

She coughed. "Yes. Of course. How are you?"

"Well I have to admit I've had better days." He was already on his feet, staring back at the building looming behind her, his jaw set, one hand clenching and unclenching by his side. "What about Dooku?"

She fought the urge to reach for that hand; to smooth those fingers. "He told me he was leaving. I'm sure he'll have long gone by now. Can you feel anything?"

Obi-Wan let out a long breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "You're right. He's not here. But—" he turned his head sharply. "His employees are going to be with us any minute."

She took his offered hand and stood up. "Then let's go."


	24. Harbor

A/N: Hello, thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you approved of Chloe escaping by herself, or at least almost by herself. Go my girl! But how will she react to Dooku's revelations about her father? Read on to find out…

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Harbor**

Obi-Wan's speeder was open-topped, and no matter how tightly she wrapped his robe around her body, Chloe couldn't get warm. Ahead, the glitter of Coruscant's cityscape was marred by a smoky haze.

"Care to tell me what happened in there?" His voice was calm and quiet, as if she were a frightened animal he did not want to startle.

"N-not really." Her teeth were chattering.

He glanced at her. "Is that blood?"

She squinted down at the collar of her blouse, stained red despite being soaked in filthy water, and hastily tucked it behind the hem of the robe. "Yeah," she said, as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Not mine."

"I'm afraid you'll have to talk about it soon. The Council will want a detailed report."

"The C-Council can stick it up their unsympathetic, m-miserable, a-asses."

Obi-Wan may have chuckled, or muttered something in reply, but Chloe couldn't hear him because she was too busy remembering tiles covered in blood, and the sound of Morlan's awful, bubbling, dying breaths.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply until the flashback passed, willing herself not to lose it now, not in front of Obi-Wan.

"Hey." Shifting sideways on the bench seat, he held onto the controls with one arm and reached for her with the other, trying to slide her towards him.

She stiffened. "I don't need you—"

"Shh…" he said, "You do, I'm afraid, just for the moment. You're freezing. You're probably in shock. Let me warm you up. Please. Try to relax."

She was too weak to object, so she allowed him to put his arm around her, and tuck her against his side. He was so _warm_, and he held her so securely, and it was so wonderful to feel safe, finally, that she did relax, and let her head rest against his chest.

"How come you're clothes are already dry?" she tried to say, but it ended in a sniff, because at some point in the last few seconds she had let accidentally her guard down, and tears were streaming down her face.

"They're more technologically advanced than they look," he said, giving her a little squeeze that said he knew she was crying, and that he was pretending not to notice.

She thanked him silently for that. "I just want to go home."

"I'm afraid I can't take you home. Your sector's taken too many hits. All inhabitants have been evacuated to the refuge."

"How bad is it?"

"At first we expected a full-scale invasion but that hasn't happened—at least, not yet. We suspect a carefully-coordinated attack designed for maximum disruption rather than maximum devastation. The Senate has been hit and there are casualties there, but the Chancellor is safe. Of course, we don't know if it's over yet."

"I should go to the refuge. I need to find Matty."

"Why don't you com her from the Temple. We'll be there soon." And as if to make it clear that he was not prepared to argue, he reached forward and activated his speeder's com. "Kenobi here. Please tell Master Yoda I'm on my way in, and I have Chloe O'Brian with me."

They were greeted in the docking bay by a diminutive, olive-skinned Mirialan. "Master Kenobi," she said, and nodded to Chloe. "Master Yoda has asked for your immediate presence in his private office."

"Thank you, Padawan, I'll be right there. Could you please escort Miss O'Brian to Master Che for assessment?"

The girl looked at Chloe uncertainly. "Excuse me, Master, but she's not…"

"Yes, I am well aware of that," Obi-Wan snapped. "Do I have to take her there myself?"

"N-no, Master. Of course not," the Padawan said, shrinking under the intensity of his stare.

Obi-Wan put a hand on Chloe's shoulder.

She looked up at him. "I'll be fine. You go."

"I'll come and check on you later."

"You don't need to," Chloe said, deciding she was too tired to be confused about him any more.

* * *

The Temple Halls of Healing were a beautifully calm and tranquil place, and the contrast with the chaos of Chloe's previous few hours was almost absurd. The healer Obi-Wan had sent Chloe to, Master Vokara Che, took in her bedraggled state with not so much as a blink, and left her to shower and change into a set of clean tunics before she carried out a more detailed assessment of Chloe's injuries.

After she'd finally got through to Matty, who, of course, was staking out the Senate, and nowhere near the refuge she should be staying in, Chloe lay on her bed, trying to rest. Her thoughts turned to Dooku, and his claim that her father had allied with the Separatist cause all those years ago. What was he doing when he accessed her mind? Could he have planted that sense of recognition in her head? Manipulated her with a Force-suggestion? Created a false memory?

When Master Che came back, Chloe decided to seek her advice.

"I have never known a Jedi able to create something elaborate as a false memory through a Force-suggestion alone," Master Che said. "Of course, Dooku could have blocked your memory of his visits at the time they happened, and what you experienced today could have been a release of that block. Would you like me to take a look?"

"What kind of look?"

"I can reach into your subconscious, search for any artificial blockages, and then release them."

Chloe recalled the feeling of Dooku's mental probe crawling over her skin; the sense of dread as she knew she couldn't stop him. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "I… I don't really feel comfortable with that."

Master Che nodded. "Of course. No more intrusions, I understand. Let me know if you change your mind."

* * *

Chloe woke to a firm bed, soft, hazy lighting, and the realisation that she was not alone.

She tried to sit up and then groaned as every muscle in her body protested. Turning on to her side instead, she buried her face in the pillow and mumbled to it, instead of him. "Hello, Obi-Wan."

"Good morning."

"What have I missed?"

"Oh, nothing significant."

She blinked her eyes open to study him, noticing the fatigue around his eyes, the fresh cut on his cheek, his unkempt hair and tunic which was dirty with smoke, or soot, or worse, and decided there was probably an awful lot he was not telling her.

His gaze softened. "How are you?"

"I've got a few scrapes, a cracked rib and lots of ugly bruises but apart from that not so bad. Drowsy though; I'm tanked up on pain meds and Master Che gave me a sedation tonic when I couldn't sleep."

"She didn't offer you a sleep suggestion?"

"No, she did, but after what Dooku did to me I've had enough of people meddling with my head, so I took the chemical option."

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you said he didn't hurt you?"

"He didn't, not physically, at least. He just messed with my mind, a bit. Like it's not messed up enough." She faked a smile. "And by the way I never thanked you, for saving my life last night."

"You don't need to thank me."

"I was convinced you wouldn't come, you know."

"Chloe, apart from anything else, it was my fault you were made a target by Dooku. If I hadn't got you tangled up in all of this in the first place, if I hadn't put you in danger by your association with me…" He rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Of course I had to come."

"But the planet was under attack," she said quietly. "Your duty lay here."

"Well, thanks to Anakin I have plenty of experience in precisely that sort of multitasking."

He made it sound like it was nothing. An everyday occurrence. A mildly inconvenient detour on a walk through the park. No big deal. _Don't read anything more into it, Chloe. You just underestimated him, again._ She cleared her throat. "So, what brings you here? Need a hacker?"

"No, nothing like that. I've got a meeting with the Council in an hour and I wondered if you felt ready to talk about what happened yesterday."

She was about to say, _no thanks,_ when she stopped herself, realising that if she didn't talk to Obi-Wan, she'd only end up having to talk to someone else later, and that the only person in this place she could imagine talking to about this, apart, perhaps, from Anakin, was Obi-Wan. So she nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He drew up a chair at her bedside, and listened as she told him about the explosion at Dex's, and the blonde-haired woman in the speeder, and Morden, skating over her description of him quickly, and moving on to the power plant, and Dooku. There was one detail she left out, though: Dooku's supposed revelations about her father. How could she tell Obi-Wan about that, after the arguments the whole scenario had caused between them? How would he react if she told him she suspected Dooku had implanted the memory? Would Obi-Wan laugh at her? Tell her not to be ridiculous?

So instead she told him about Morden's death.

"I can still see him there, on the floor," she said, closing her eyes then opening them immediately when the vision intensified. "Hear his breathing. I can't believe it was me. I can't believe I did that to someone. But I didn't have a choice."

Obi-Wan's body was rigid, his eyes distant. Was he even listening?

"Obi-Wan?" she said, quietly, "I _said_, I didn't have a choice. Or do you think I did?"

"No," he said, "you had no choice." He turned his eyes on her, intensely serious. "For what it's worth, I think you were incredibly brave. And that you should not waste a moment feeling guilty about it."

Chloe nodded, looking down at her hands.

He covered them with one of his own. "I mean it."

It helped. The burden of guilt lifted, a little. She smiled up at him, weakly. "Okay."

With a little squeeze, he let go. "What happened next?"

She shrugged. "I ran. Ran and ran and ran. Eventually heard them, somewhere, nearby, ditched myself in the coolant channel and was just about to drown when you found me."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I thought you said Dooku used some sort of power over you."

_Oh._

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," he said, gently.

And that was precisely when she realised she _did_ have to, because, awkward as it might be to ask, he was the only one she trusted enough to find out the truth.

So she told him what Dooku had said, and what he had done, and how vulnerable it had made her feel, how _violated_. And then, quickly, without looking up, she recounted her theory about the memory being false. "Master Che offered to check," she said, "but I couldn't stand to let her do it… the idea of feeling like that again..."

She shuddered, and then looked up at him, expecting ridicule, but found only tenderness.

"Will you look for me?" she went on, emboldened. "I mean, I trust you, and it's driving me mad, Obi-Wan… and I can't stand the idea of there being something false implanted here, it's awful…"

Her voice trailed off, because now he looked so incredibly uncomfortable that she regretted asking. "Of course I understand if you don't want to…"

"No, no, it's not that." He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"What's the matter?"

"Chloe. Dooku didn't implant a memory in you. He did meet with your father."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he told me."

"Who, Dooku?"

"No. Your father."

* * *

"When?" was all Chloe could manage to say, when she had regained the ability to speak.

"On Nelvaan. The mission— "

"He told you."

"Yes."

"And you didn't think I might need to know too?"

"Chloe— "

"That's what you were hiding? I _knew_ you were hiding something."

"I… yes."

"So he admitted all this to you and you didn't see fit to tell me? Who _did you_ tell? Are they all laughing at me behind my back? Did you not—"

"I couldn't bear it."

"—consider for a second that I had a right to know? Do you—"

"I couldn't bear it."

"— even realise how insulting that…" she stopped when his words finally penetrated her haze of outrage.

_I couldn't bear it._

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I knew what he meant to you. I knew how devastated you would be. And what was the point? He was already dead; I hadn't been able to bring him back to you. Why make it worse by destroying the image you had of him? It was only when I saw you again, there, in that blasted hangar, that I realised couldn't bring myself to tell you the truth. It was a moment of weakness. I'm sorry."

Stunned, Chloe stared at him, scanning his face as if she could find evidence of the part of his character she had so far failed to perceive. She had never considered, even for a single second, that Obi-Wan would be so sensitive to her feelings… "I didn't…" she began, "I didn't think you were allowed that kind of weakness."

Obi-Wan sighed. He stood up, and crossed to the window, sliding one finger down the glass. "I am only human. I… care about you. And, although it may have been irrational and wrong to do so, I felt I had to protect you from the truth."

_That he worked for Dooku? _She wanted to ask._ Or that he was an aspiring mass murderer? _ Instead, she said, "how did he really die?"

"In the lab, as I told you. But it wasn't an accident. He locked himself in the test chamber with his notebooks and his samples. I couldn't persuade him to come with me, not to save his own life, no even for…" Obi-Wan hesitated.

"Not even for me?"

"No. Not even for you."

"So you didn't just withhold the truth. You _lied_. You told me you hadn't mentioned my name to him. And what about the second time, when I asked you about again? When I pleaded with you to tell me what happened? Why didn't you just tell me then?"

"Have you never made a mistake that you regret, but that you would make all over again if faced with the same circumstances?"

"Don't talk in riddles, Obi-Wan."

"You already thought me capable of torturing him to death, for Force's sake. I thought it would hurt you less to think ill of me than of him."

Chloe was stunned a second time, and once it sank in all she could think was, _he's right_. She would not have chosen Obi-Wan, a man she'd known only a few months, over her father, her role model, her hero, and for a few precious years of her life, her closest friend.

Or so she thought.

"All I can say is that the very last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, and it appears that is exactly what I have done. I'm sorry."

That turned her attention from the man in her thoughts, the man who had betrayed her, to the man standing in front of her. Obi-Wan cared. He _really_ cared, much more than she had ever dared to imagine. She could see it there, now, in his eyes: so pained, so sincere, so unmistakeable. How could she _not_ have known?

Letting out a shaky sigh, Chloe reached for his hand. His fingers, elegant, strong, bore the scratches and stains of the previous night's rescue operation, his neatly-trimmed fingernails still grimy with soot. She turned his hand over, and ran her fingertips along the callous that lay across his palm. "I think you really might be human, after all," she said, quietly. "And you don't have to apologise to me for that. I should have realised he was far too clever to work for a cause he didn't believe in."

She closed her eyes and rubbed one hand across them, trying to make sense of it all. The grief for the father she remembered was still there; the truth hadn't miraculously taken that grief away. She didn't feel devastated, either—at least not yet—so much as foolish, angry, empty, and alone, and she wished Matty were here, because then at least she would have someone to hug.

Obi-Wan's hand slipped away, and there was a slight rustle of clothing as he moved, and she was waiting for him to make some excuse and leave, because, no matter what he _felt_, it was clear that he still _believed_ human nature to be a weakness, and in this case the need for comfort she was experiencing—intense longing, more accurately— was almost certain to be something he thought—how had he put it?— _Irrational and wrong_.

But then she felt his hand, tentatively, brush her elbow, and the other touch her shoulder, sliding behind, easing her forwards, against his chest.

She crumpled, then. Gave in, finally letting down all her barriers because she was too exhausted and broken to resist, exhaling her pain and frustration and helplessness into his smoke-stained tunic, pleading silently with him to stay like this, for just a little longer.

"What can I do to help you?" he whispered, against her hair, and his voice was so uncharacteristically _plaintive_ that she had to pull back and look up at him to see why. That was a big mistake, because his lips were only millimetres away, and he _had_ asked, after all, and her thought process went no further because she was already kissing him.

He didn't resist. He kissed her back, for a few long, wonderful seconds.

She was just about to reach up and wind her fingers into his hair when his hands tightened on her upper arms, and he pulled away.

It was as if he'd wrenched half her body with him, tearing her in two, and she could barely remember how to breathe, never mind manage a coherent apology, which was what she really should be doing right now because kissing him was the worst possible thing she could have done, for her own sake, never mind his.

Meanwhile, he was backing away, flustered, embarrassed, slightly horrified. "I'm sorry… I didn't intend that to happen… to take… advantage of you. It was totally inappropriate."

Too hazy to be embarrassed just yet, thanks to the intoxicating effect on her mind and body of a mere three seconds of kiss, Chloe found his chivalrous discomfort sweetly charming. She shook her head. "You didn't. It was my fault."

He rubbed his forehead, hiding behind his hand, cheeks flushed, still embarrassed. "I should go."

_Great job Chloe. Just great. Now he's going to run away._

"Hey don't worry about it, didn't mean anything," she babbled. "I, um, old habits die hard, I guess. What about your report?"

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

_I love you. I'm _in love_ with you, you stupid man; why can't you see that? I'll never stop being in love with you until the day I kriffing die…_

"No," she said, wondering exactly which bit of her malfunctioning brain never allowed that thought to spill out of her mouth. "I think you got everything."

"Right." He checked his chrono. "Goodbye, then."

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

Suddenly shy, she looked down at her hands. "What you said, about remaining cordial. I would like that."

When he didn't reply, she was too afraid to look up.

"So would I." He was lingering by the door, and his soft smile threatened to make her blush.

She fluttered her fingers him. "Now shoo, Master Jedi, or you'll get in trouble, and I don't want you coming to blame me."

He grinned, and dipped his head in a bow. "Milady."

She blew him a kiss. Watched him leave. Flopped back on the bed, drained and exhausted beyond anything she had ever experienced. But a flicker of something hopeful danced in her chest, and a warmth that she had not felt for weeks suffused her body, and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relive the memory, just this once, while it was fresh in her mind, of how it felt to kiss him.


	25. Hope On Fire

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Hope On Fire**

_What you said, about remaining cordial. I would like that._

It was not something Chloe had planned to say, or something she knew before she said it.

Immediately after Nelvaan and Terminus, Chloe had been so angry with Obi-Wan, so hurt, so _confused, _that _s_he had never seriously considered they could remain friends. But now, after one simple conversation, everything had changed.

Now she was no longer afraid. Now she knew Obi-Wan would never willingly hurt her. Now, she knew he cared about her so much, that he had allowed her to think badly of him rather than desecrate the memory of the man she had idolised. In that single action, Obi-Wan had been a typically selfless Jedi, and yet at the same time he had been the very opposite: merely a man whose actions had been driven by a desire to protect her. It was as if that contradiction revealed a chink in his armour—a way of beginning, at least, to understand him.

During their short time together, Chloe had become convinced that Obi-Wan did not allow himself to experience intense emotions. But hadn't he once told her that the principle of the Jedi Code was not to deny emotions, but to be able to understand and then set them aside? And, she wondered, how did it feel to deal with those emotions alone, to analyse and then disregard those very human aspects of himself, because he wasn't allowed to share them?

All for the sake of a duty prescribed by birthright, not choice. Yes, theoretically, the Jedi _chose_ to remain in the Order, to take their vows and become Jedi knights, but what else could an honourable being do? Walk away from the vocation they believed to be their destiny, or pledge to serve the Force, no matter the personal cost to themselves?

Chloe missed him. She needed him. And, she realised, she had been so overwhelmed during their fleeting relationship that she had only ever thought about _her_ needs. Now she'd had a glimpse of the real Obi-Wan, and now she knew that he cared about her, she found herself wanting to be with him not for her own sake, but for his.

So she'd messed up the chance to be anything more than friends. What did that leave? Could she contain the head-over-heels madness of being _in love_ with him, and be his friend, be grateful for his friendship, and not expect anything more? Could she figure out how he needed to be loved, on his terms, not overtly or in such a way as to embarrass his Jedi sensibilities?

When she had healed from her injuries sufficiently for boredom to drive her out of the apartment, Chloe decided it was time to find out.

* * *

The Temple switchboard confirmed Obi-Wan was on-planet, but they persistently put her on hold or cut her off completely when she asked to be put through to him, and he didn't seem to be answering his private com. Chloe knew he liked to take an early morning swim before breakfast most days, that he was at his most relaxed after exercise, and that he secretly enjoyed the indulgence of a leisurely breakfast. So, before she lost her nerve, she armed herself with a box of Dex's fresh muffins and the data jack that had got her into the Temple the very first day she'd met Obi-Wan, and she found her way to the door of his apartment, planning be there when he returned.

The moment he emerged from the lift, she knew something was not quite right.

"Hi," she said, uncertainly, holding up the box of muffins. "I wondered if you might be free for breakfast. I've got Dex's finest."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything, just waved open the door, holding out his arm to indicate she should go in, and remained silent until it had shut behind them. He looked tired, she realised, more so than when she had seen him last. Which wasn't good, given the circumstances.

"Chloe," he said, "you really shouldn't be here."

_Okay, serious misjudgement. Fabulous. Great start, Chloe. _

"No problem," she said, holding out her finger and swivelling until it pointed at the door. "I'll just be off."

"No, don't it's all right." He sighed. "I'll make some tea for with those."

Chloe sat stiffly on the very edge of the sofa. Obi-Wan, who had disappeared into the kitchen, emerged carrying a tray laden with tea things. She took a cup of near-boiling tea and balanced it in her hands. The box of muffins lay unopened on the table between them.

"You're about to go away?" She indicated the half-packed travel case by his bedroom door.

"Yes. Later today, as it happens."

"With Anakin?"

"No. It's not a mission." He studied his teacup.

"Sorry. None of my business."

"I'm going to Alderaan. It's a… personal matter."

Chloe was going to joke that she didn't realise Jedi were allowed personal matters, when she realised that they were. That she had been one, not so long ago. And Alderaan… that Sabé person lived there now, didn't she? She'd married and then divorced an Alderaanian nobleman.

_The expression on her face. Those delicate, pale fingers, intertwined with Obi-Wan's…_

But she was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he merely wanted to confide in this woman. Chloe ignored the wrench in her chest and carefully sipped her tea. Friendship. She knew it would not be easy. But it meant she should be whatever he needed her to be. And he clearly didn't want to share this with her.

She stayed as short a time as possible without seeming impolite, wished him a pleasant trip, and made her excuses. He walked her to the door in silence. This was as close as she'd got to him since she'd been there and she studied his face, certain now that something was weighing heavily on his mind. Just a few weeks ago, she could have reached up and stroked the crease from his forehead. She ached to do that right now. _Friendship_, she told herself firmly. _Friendship, and no more_.

But Chloe was no Jedi. There was no rule saying she couldn't touch him. She reached out tentatively, then settled for resting her hand on his upper arm. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't intend to make you feel awkward. I just want to say, whatever 's bothering you… well, if you need someone to talk to… I mean you probably don't, but on the off chance that you do, when you get back, perhaps, I'll be here… or rather… somewhere else… like Dex's… which is a good place to go if you don't want to talk at all, and just eat instead. And don't worry, I don't expect anything else, what we had before… just… you know… friendship."

Convinced that was the most moronic speech of her life, Chloe met his eyes cautiously, finding, to her relief, a glimmer of humour there. "Thank you," he said, and she thought he was about to say something else, but when the silence stretched on the point of embarrassment, so she let go of his arm, gave him a last little nod of farewell, and left.

* * *

Chloe lay on the sofa, her head on a cushion, her feet on a stool, datapad propped on a tub of chocolate brownies which, in turn, was balanced on her stomach. She alternated her frown between the assignment on her screen and the news report splashing from the holonet projector. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was delivering a morale-boosting speech praising the determination of the population and their bravery in living with a permanent threat of terror. He seemed a nice enough man, Chloe thought, grabbing the remote, although she couldn't help wondering whether people would be so terrified if he stopped reminding them about it all the kriffing time.

She flicked to the next channel and bit into a brownie. This one was more of a celebrity gossip channel than a news channel, really. She was about to change again when a subtitle flashed across the bottom of the projected image.

LADY SABE ESSARA TREATED FOR LIFE-THREATENING ILLNESS

And there she was: Sabé Essara, elegant yet frail, smiling bravely for the cameras, her nurse by her side, helping to support her weight as she walked, arms linked, hands clasped, fingers intertwined.

Chloe sat up, the brownie dropping from her limp hand, her datapad following the rest of the cakes and the bowl to the floor.

_Fingers intertwined. _

No wonder she'd looked so delicate. Chloe smiled and then felt immediately guilty for doing so. The poor woman was ill. It was wrong to feel relieved, and happy.

Ecstatic, in fact.

Back on the news channel, the reporter was explaining that Lady Sabé would not be returning to Alderaan for the upcoming Solstice festival.

The Solstice Festival.

On Alderaan.

Of course, Alderaan! Why hadn't she remembered? Obi-Wan had been invited, hadn't he? He'd shown her the tickets, signed by Bail and Breha Organa. No. He'd given _her _the tickets, she still had them somewhere. They were supposed to be going together.

Chloe rushed to her room and searched through her desk drawer until she found the slim white envelope, tucked carefully inside her box of family holoimages and flimsiplast letters from her father. Swallowing her distaste, she shoved the box back in the drawer and went back to the living room. Carefully, she took out the invitations, running her fingerstips lightly over the elegant script.

So is that why Obi-Wan had gone to Alderaan? To attend the ball? And if so, why hadn't he told her? Did he feel awkward about having asked her? Surely not. But if he wasn't going to visit Sabé, what was this elusive personal matter? Was it another woman, someone he'd met since their split? And why did Chloe suddenly feel like she should already know?

Unsettled, she put the papers down on the table and bent to pick the scattered cakes from the floor. A glimmer of metal caught her eye. In her haste she must have dropped her comlink too. She picked it up and set it down next to the invitations. Then she stared at it.

She knew who would be most likely to be able to answer her questions about Obi-Wan. Someone she'd been meaning to call for a while. Someone who had called her, just before the bomb had gone off at Dex's. She couldn't remember the reason for his call. Perhaps it was time to catch up.

But he was a busy man, just like his Master.

Perhaps she should mind her own business and just go out for more cake. Or perhaps…

She snatched up the comlink, and dialled Anakin's ID.

To her relief, he answered after only a few seconds.

"Hey Chloe."

"Hi Anakin, are you busy? Can you talk for a minute? It's about Obi-Wan."

There was a slight chuckle. "Oh, well, that case, yes, of course."

"I was just… erm, just wondering if you knew why he'd gone to Alderaan."

"He didn't tell you?"

"No. It's a kind of a complicated story. Has he gone for the Solstice Ball?"

"I'm not sure about that. I know he's accepted an invitation from Senator Organa but I think all he intends to do is find some remote place to be alone and meditate."

"Oh. So he's not met, erm… someone else?"

"No, no, not at all."

Chloe tried to ignore the surge of happiness and relief that threatened to make her voice tremble. "But you know how private he is," she said, quietly. "Perhaps he just didn't mention it to you."

"No, I can safely say he isn't interested in anyone else."

"Why?"

"Because he's preparing to take the celibacy vow."

"He's _what? _Why?"

"To appease the Council. And, I suspect, so no one else can break his heart."

"Who broke his heart?"

"Who do you think, Chloe?"

She was about to say _Sabé Essara_, but then she realised what Anakin was implying. She laughed. "We are talking about _Obi-Wan_ Kenobi, aren't we? You're not confusing him with someone else?"

"I'm serious."

"He told you I broke his heart?"

"No, not in so many words, but I _know_ him, Chloe, better even than you, it seems. You never realised, then?

"Realised what?"

"How he felt about you."

"Well… I… "

"Let me guess," Anakin went on, "he never told you how he took responsibility for you coming to Tatooine with me, and pleaded your case with the Council so you could leave with a clear record and your future career intact?"

It took a great deal of effort to prevent the comlink slipping from her hand. "Oh. No."

"Or how Mace—I mean Master Windu—accused Obi-Wan of abandoning his post to come and rescue you from Dooku?"

"No! Did he? Abandon his post, I mean?"

"No, well not really. He did the right thing – exactly what he'd have done for me, or for anyone in trouble, and I told him that, and I think Master Yoda did too."

Chloe rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "So, let me try and understand this. He's gone to Alderaan because of the Council? Or because of me?"

"Both, I think. He let slip something about a period of contemplation and meditation being required before the pledging ceremony, and I got the truth out of him about preparing for the celibacy vow. But when I mentioned you, he made it quite clear the conversation was over. Told me to mind my own business."

"I never realised," she said quietly. "I never knew. Why didn't he tell me any of this?"

"Chloe. Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"Do you love him?"

She shouldn't admit it. But it would be such a relief to confide in Anakin.

"Chloe?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

"Did you ever tell him?"

"No."

"Are you prepared to put what's best for him before what's best for you?"

"Yes."

She waited, heavy-hearted, for what she knew Anakin was about to say. _Then let him go. Forget about him. Get on with your life, and let him get on with his._

But what he actually said was, "Then go to him, now, while he's away from the Temple, away from the war. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. And make him talk to you."

"Are you sure he'll want to see me?"

"I don't think he knows what he wants. But I think talking to you is the only way he's going to find out."

* * *

Chloe opened the door of her apartment and rushed straight into Matty.

"Hi," she said, then frowned, glancing down to Chloe's feet. "Oh, are you okay? You look kind of flushed. Where are you rushing off to with mismatching shoes and no coat?"

"Alderaan."

"Erm… let me guess. This has something to do with Obi-Wan Kenobi, doesn't it?"

"I don't want you to talk me out of this Matty. You were wrong about him. I'm sorry, but you were."

"Okay, but perhaps you can tell me about it before you head off to the spaceport? Seeing as I'm your best friend and I've known you for six and a half years and all. You never know, I might just have your best interests at heart."

Chloe's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Matty. It's just… I really need to talk to him."

"C'mon, let's go inside. I'll make you a drink, and I'll help you pack properly. The city of Aldera's cold at this time of year. A sweater or two might be a good idea."

Chloe allowed herself to be led across to the sofa.

Matty made the coffee, and set two steaming mugs down on the table. "So. What's going on?"

Chloe bit her lip, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Or you could tell me to mind my own business."

"No. It's not that. I just… well I can't tell you without telling you things that I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Then erase my memory at the end."

"Don't joke, Matty! My career would be over if I was accused of breaking secrecy laws."

"Sorry, love. Look, just tell me as little as you can get away with, mention no names or places, let me work it out for myself and you won't have technically broken any law."

"Really?"

"Sure. How else do you think journalists get their information from reputable sources?"

"But you have to promise this goes no further."

"Of course. I swear."

So Chloe told Matty everything. Well, nearly everything. She did not name Terminus or Tatooine, Nelvaan, or even her father. But when she said "someone dear to me," and recalled Obi-Wan recognising the photo in her room, Matty nodded, wide-eyed, realising exactly who she meant. She told Matty about her arguments with Obi-Wan: in the hangar of the space station and back at the Temple, and she recalled her capture by "an important Separatist," and how he had concealed what had happened all those years ago. She told Matty how Obi-Wan had admitted he could not bear telling her the truth because he knew it would hurt her. She recalled the story about Sabé Essara, ill and frail, on the news. And finally, she recounted everything Anakin had just told her, about Obi-Wan, and the Council, and the celibacy vow, and how she should go to Alderaan to tell him the truth.

"I love him, Matty. I can't stop."

Matty said nothing. She carefully put her still-full cup of cold coffee down on the table.

"Well?" said Chloe, unable to recall the last time her friend had been lost for words. "What do you think?"

When Matty looked up, her eyes were wet with tears. "Chloe. I'm so sorry."

"What? Why?"

"For being wrong. For being overprotective. For being blind."

"It's not your fault; you didn't know half of what was going on."

"I just wish I'd seen it. I should have seen it."

"Seen what?"

"Dex saw it. Anakin saw it. Even Count-freaking-Dooku saw it."

"_It?_"

"Oh, Gods, well that makes me feel a little bit better."

"Now you're making no sense at all."

"He loves you, Chloe! Obi-Wan loves you. Is _in_ love with you."

"But he's not allowed—"

"Irrelevant! He loves you, why else would he act they way he has?"

"Well… I… but…" the idea settled over Chloe slowly, like a dress that fitted so perfectly, it could never really exist.

"One hundred percent certain, my love."

"Matty! Don't cry!"

"I can't help it. I'm so happy for you."

"But he's not allowed attachments. He's not allowed to be in love with me. That's why he's taking the celibacy vow."

"Are you sure? What if he's taking it because he doesn't want to be hurt again? Because you never told him how you felt?"

"Even if you're right, he's hardly going to leave the Jedi Order for me."

"Who said anything about leaving the Order?"

"Well, according to Anakin, the Council thought he'd abandoned his post to rescue me, remember? That doesn't exactly sound like a glowing endorsement."

"Mace Windu, I thought you said. One man, a Jedi Council does not make."

"I suppose… He did tell me once, you know, that the Code does not forbid love."

Matty sat up straight. "Tell me exactly what he said."

"Something like… Jedi are not forbidden from love, but that they have to understand their feelings and deal with them, so they can set them aside when the situation dictates."

Matty beamed. "Then there's your answer. You follow the boy's advice, clever Padawan that he is. You go to Obi-Wan, spend a good few nights dealing with your feelings together, and then you'll both feel much better."

Chloe smiled. "Right, well, that's what I was about to do, remember."

"Then don't let me stop you! Come on, let's get you a bag packed."

In Chloe's room, Matty selected clothes from the closet while Chloe haphazardly folded and tossed them into her old, tattered travel case.

When Chloe had done fastening up the case, Matty hugged her. "I'm so sorry, love. I keep going over those times in my head, you know, when I kept having a go at him."

"Don't worry, you were just trying to be objective," Chloe said, hugging her back. "I would have done the same for you. And Obi-Wan is hardly a typical man."

"Perhaps you could apologise to him for me."

Chloe grinned, setting off for the living room. "No chance."

Matty looked confused. "What?"

Chloe returned, waving the two invitations to the Solstice Ball. "You can tell him yourself. You're coming with me, missy."

* * *

**A/N:**

Sorry for the delay between chapters! I had hoped to get the whole story posted before the holidays, but it's just a crazy busy time of year for me. Not so much more to go now though. Once I've finished writing perhaps I can actually get around to replying to your comments! Thanks for reading, everyone!


	26. The Solstice Ball

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Solstice Ball**

Midwinter's day lasted a meagre five hours in the city of Aldera, and darkness had long since shrouded the Royal Palace by the time Viceroy Bail and Queen Breha Organa delivered the speeches that formally opened the Solstice Ball. Inside, the Grand Ballroom was the epitome of sumptuous elegance. Blue and silver silk cascaded like frozen waterfalls from the windows. Shimmering stars adorned the walls, reflecting the light from a dozen grand chandeliers. At the centre of the room stood an enormous tree, slung with row upon row of tiny lights, its feathery foliage exuding the fresh, slightly spicy fragrance of pine.

Chloe and Matty had been on Alderaan for two days, and for two days there had been no sign of Obi-Wan. Hope was not lost, however: Matty's tactful but persistent enquiries had yielded confirmation—from Bail Organa's personal valet, no less— that yes, Master Kenobi was on planet, on retreat, somewhere in the mountains north of the city, but that no, he was not expected at the palace, at least not until the evening of the Solstice Ball itself.

Which was right about now. Chloe stood by the doorway of the ballroom, watching the crowd, trying to not _look like_ she was watching the crowd. She raised a nervous hand to wind one finger in her hair, but then stopped when she remembered her earlier, very expensive visit to a city hairstylist, the artful waves he had coaxed into her dead-straight locks, and the tiny jewels he had woven there afterwards. She shifted on her feet instead, her floor-length dress rustling disturbingly around her legs.

"Any sign?"

Chloe greeted Matty with a shake of the head. "You neither?"

"Don't worry. It's still early," Matty said. "Come on, let's get a drink."

They circulated, people-watching, drinking very little, grazing on the delicacies laid out on buffet tables along one wall of the room. Or, in Chloe's case, pretending to graze; she struggled to chew a single morsel, her central nervous system apparently having taken on the qualities of the colourful, mountainous, gelatinous puddings that trembled delicately on the desert table. Only her eyes moved with coordination and purpose: scanning the room, searching for his face or that familiar flash of brown and beige amongst the fine suits and state gowns.

Once the buffet had been consumed, the orchestral ensemble began tuning up and serving staff discreetly cleared chairs, tables and discarded glasses and plates to make space for dancing. The music began, a lively folk tune, Chloe noticed Matty's foot tapping.

"Go on," she said. "Why don't you go for it? I'm sure you'll not be short on offers."

Matty looked longingly toward the amassing couples. "I don't know. I should keep a low profile. Bail won't be very impressed to find me here."

Chloe put her hands on her hips. "Why should you be the one to hide? Surely he'll find it in his heart to forgive you, given the spirit of the occasion?"

Matty smiled ruefully. "Not a chance. You're right, though, I shouldn't have to hide from him. But you'd better come too, just in case."

"Oh no. No way." Chloe frowned towards the dancers twirling gracefully to the music. "Jumping around in a club is one thing. _That_ is quite something else."

Matty grabbed her hand. "Okay, just walk over there with me, then. You can take a turn around the room while I'm busy. It's getting crowded; you could miss him if you stay here."

Several songs later, still alone and beginning to feel downhearted, Chloe's wanderings led her back to the edge of the dance floor again, where she stopped to admire the old-fashioned grace of the dance being performed.

"The Alderaanian waltz," an elderly lady next to her said. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Chloe nodded, smiling as she noticed the jewels woven into the woman's hair matched those in her own.

"The dance originated in a time when hand-to-hand contact was deemed too suggestive," the woman went on, seeming to be delighted that someone had taken an interest. "Instead of the normal position where hands are clasped together, the lady's right hand is placed on top of her left, which rests on her partner's right shoulder. This requires both partners to be perfectly coordinated. It is a skill not easily learned." She waved a thin hand at the dancers.

Chloe turned back to watch the couples, who tilted and twirled as one. "It's very elegant," she said. "I'm sure I could never do—"

Her eye was caught by a flash of coppery-gold. Her heart tremoured. "Sorry," she muttered, forgetting all about the old lady and setting off, skirting as close as she could to the edge of the dance floor.

Over at the far side, she spotted the wine-red silk of Matty's dress, and yes, that was Matty, and she was dancing with a man whose back was towards her, and his hair was the right colour, but cut too short, and although he was about Obi-Wan's height, he was wearing a dark gray Alderaanian-style suit, and so it couldn't be him, and now Matty was whispering something to him, and he was turning around—

And Chloe froze.

She saw her friend wink, and then Matty and everything else faded into the background, and there was only Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, standing rock-still amidst the dancers, occasionally buffeted as they passed him, oblivious to their confused looks.

Chloe smiled at him, out of amusement, relief, joy, and sheer amazement.

Finally realising he was just a little bit in the way, Obi-Wan looked left and right, and then smiled back at her, somehow managing to frown at the same time. He made his way over, skilfully avoiding the dancing couples, and stopped an arm's reach away.

"Chloe? What… I mean, why...?"

"Hello," she said, taking just a little bit of delight in his surprise. "Nice suit." She waved a hand at his elegant, tastefully expensive outfit, and took in his expertly-trimmed hair: shorter at the back and sides than she was used to, but long enough at the front to be stylishly unkempt.

Obi-Wan brushed away a few loose strands of hair from his forehead and then frowned down at his jacket. "Ah. Bail let his personal dresser loose on me. I'm not sure it was a good idea."

Chloe was unable to suppress a grin. "Don't worry. I get the feeling he knew exactly what he was doing."

Obi-Wan gave her a look of blank incomprehension, coughed, and changed the subject. "So. What brings you here? Rather a long way to travel for a party, isn't it?"

"Matty didn't tell you?"

"She said very little, other than sorry, although I've no idea what for."

Just then the music finished, and everyone about them applauded enthusiastically.

"Long story," Chloe shouted, over the noise. "Can we find somewhere more private?"

* * *

The problem was, they couldn't. The Solstice Ball was the most important event of the most important festival of the Alderaanian calendar. The palace was crammed with people. Every door they opened, hoping to find a deserted corridor or a study or a private office, revealed yet another function room, and another crowd.

Which was how they ended up in the palace gardens, ankle-deep in snow.

Chloe smiled, filled with wonder. "It must have fallen in the past couple of hours," she said, bending to sift her fingers through the soft, powdery crystals. "I've never seen snow before."

Chivalrous as ever, Obi-Wan offered Chloe his jacket. She refused. The truth was, in spite of her bare shoulders, she really couldn't feel the cold. Her skin was burning with a heady mixture of excitement, fear and intense nervous anticipation.

They took a path that skirted the perimeter of the palace, walking in silence for a while, but Chloe knew she could not draw this out much longer. She could almost feel Obi-Wan's patience wearing thin.

"Obi-Wan…" she managed, before pausing, her mouth already dry.

_Come on Chloe, you know how he feels about you. You can do this. You can say it. _

Another breath. "I came here because I need to tell you something."

"Well it's rather long way to come, are you unwell? "

"No."

"In danger?"

"No."

"Then what's the matter? You're not…" He stopped walking, his face suddenly apprehensive.

"No," she said, realising, shaking her head, smiling, almost laughing. "I'm not pregnant."

"Then what by the stars do you need to tell me?"

She set off again. "Something I should have told you a long time ago."

A sudden, delicate coldness tickled her shoulder, then her nose, then her cheek. She glanced up.

_It's snowing. It's only kriffing snowing._

"Chloe, are you planning to wait until we both freeze to our—"

"I love you."

There, it was done. No going back_. _She didn't look at him, not yet."I'm _in_ love with you," she said, rushing onwards, not giving him time to reply. "I think I have been since we first spend the night together. I so very nearly told you, countless times, but I just didn't… just couldn't. I'm sorry."

The way was barred by a door. The path had turned back towards the building. The door was locked. There was nowhere left to run. Chloe bit her lip and faced Obi-Wan.

To find happiness. A wonderful, crumpled smile of unrestrained happiness.

But after only a couple of seconds, it had been replaced by concern, and worry. "Chloe, you—"

She held up a hand. "Please, wait. Hear me out. Don't worry; I know why you're here. I know you intend to take the celibacy vow; I know your plans don't include me. But I also know how you argued my case with the Council, after Tatooine, and how you reacted after we split. I know that your feelings for me were—perhaps still are—stronger than I realised. I'm here because… because if there's any chance you might change your mind, knowing how _I_ feel… well I can't let that chance slip away."

Obi-Wan was silent for a long time.

Then he said, quietly, "Anakin told you."

"Yes."

"He had no right to do that."

"He cares about you. And he only told me because I called him to ask why you'd come here. Oh, Obi-Wan , why couldn't you just have told me yourself?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"I was scared. Falling in love… it's not allowed, for you, is it? I didn't want you to be angry with me. I didn't want to lose you because of it. In the end, I couldn't cope being with you and knowing—believing— you could never feel the same way. I'm sorry."

He sighed. "Please, don't apologise. I'm surprised. Flattered. Honoured."

_Flattered? That doesn't sound good. That sounds bad. Very bad. _She took a breath. "And?"

Obi-Wan took a step closer. He hooked a finger around a lock of her hair, and smiled sadly, running his thumb along the length until it slipped away. "I thought I was dreaming. Tonight, when I turned and saw you. It was like a dream."

"Then… was Anakin… right?"

_Let me in, Obi-Wan, please. Just let your guard down, for a second. Tell me the truth. I'm dying here._

"Yes." He raised his hand again, hesitantly, as if he were uncertain what to do with it. Very gently, he grazed the back of his fingers over her cheek. "He was right. Is right."

It was a confession that should have filled her with unbridled joy, but he looked so sad she wanted to cry for him instead.

No fanfare. No music. No stars falling from heaven.

Obi-Wan shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to her. "I really wish you'd take my blasted coat."

"Okay."

They retraced their steps until they rejoined the perimeter path. Obi-Wan's head was bowed in thought. "There," he said, after a while. "Let's try that door."

It was a conservatory, a hothouse, in the summer months perhaps. Now the temperature was only a few degrees warmer than the garden, and the room appeared to be in use as a temporary larder. Trestle tables practically groaned under the weight of dishes of food, all carefully wrapped and labelled. Below the tables stood what must have amounted to thousands of bottles of wine.

"So," said Chloe. "What now?"

Obi-Wan lifted both her cold hands and held them between his, that same sad smile on his face. "You're frozen."

She intertwined their fingers, gripping tightly. "Obi-Wan. Please. Talk to me. Tell me what you want. Tell me the truth."

He sighed. "The truth… is that what I want is irrelevant."

"Because of the Code?"

There was a long pause before he answered. "No. I don't believe so."

"Oh. I thought perhaps you doubted—"

"No," he interrupted. " I don't. Not now." He took in her confused expression. "Did Anakin explain what I've been doing here?"

"Meditating?"

"Yes. Mediating, straightening my thoughts… and I find no conflict between my feelings for you and the will of the Force. I may have acted on instinct on a number of occasions, and I may have made personal errors of judgment, but I do not believe I have broken my vows because of you. That is my interpretation. Of course, interpretation is subjective."

"What's the problem then? The Council?"

Another pause. "The night of the bombings, when I set off for you, there was no time to consult them. In fact, as you know, Dooku stipulated that I should not communicate with anyone. Nevertheless, certain members of the Council seem to believe I abandoned my post to rescue you… that I had put my personal desire to protect you ahead of my duty. When they raised their concerns in the Council meeting, I had to concede that I couldn't reflect on what happened objectively. It is perfectly true that I can't step away from my personal involvement with you. They see that as a weakness."

"So they _ordered_ you to take the celibacy vow?"

"No. Only a minority made these accusations. But they see the vow as a guarantee—a way to assuage their doubts. A way to ensure that if I did make a mistake, I will not do so again."

Frustration flared in Chloe's chest, kindled into full flame and burst forth from her lips. "Is that what's really important to you? Being flawless, in the eyes of every single Council member? Did it never occur to you that they might be less than flawless themselves?"

Obi-Wan's expression was stony. He raised an eyebrow.

That look said one thing only. _Who are you to judge them?_

Chloe clenched her hands into fists and turned away, forcing herself to take a few calming breaths. Instinct told her gentleness was the approach she needed here. Not conflict. Obi-Wan needed encouragement, it seemed, to be confident in himself. To separate the will of the Force from the will of the Council. Or a minority of the Council—and she fully suspected that was his diplomatic way of referring to Mace Windu. She was beginning to understand those who derided the Jedi Order as little more than a religious cult.

So she must treat this Jedi, this warrior, this military leader, with gentleness. Whoever would have thought that?

She turned to face him. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly. "I know how well respected the Council members are. I know I can't understand what it is to be in your position… but you are not a Padawan, Obi-Wan. You are a respected Jedi Master, a General, and a war hero, whether you want to believe it or not. Surely there are some situations where you can put your own judgement first?"

"You sound exactly like my old Master."

"Sensible man."

Obi-Wan shook his head, and Chloe found, to her relief, that he was smiling. "Far from it, I'm afraid. But he also had an irritating habit of being right."

"And what would he advise you to do now?"

Obi-Wan thought for a moment, his eyes distant, then chuckled. "He would tell me I was quite capable of working that out for myself. And that, if I really thought about it, I'd find I already had."

She stepped closer to him, hope rising. "So..?"

But his face was grave once again. "There is another problem. One that displeasing the Council will not solve."

"Tell me."

"I can't give you what you deserve."

She rolled her eyes. "You seriously believe that?"

"No, I am serious. Deadly serious. Think about it: merely associating with me puts you in danger, yet I'm not free to protect you from that danger. When Dooku captured you—we were lucky, that time, but what about the next time? Chloe, I would put your life before mine in a heartbeat, but what I _cannot_ do is choose you over my duty to the Jedi Order, and to winning this war. I can't promise to keep you safe. I can't even promise to be alive tomorrow."

"I know that."

"But you must see that I can't make you happy. I _didn't_ make you happy. You told me yourself that my world was too much, that you couldn't fit into it."

"It was different then. I didn't know how you felt. I thought you _didn't_ feel, most of the time. I didn't understand you."

"But what happens when you want to settle down? Marriage, family, a reliable partner, a steady life?"

"Obi-Wan, we are at war! You said you couldn't promise to be alive tomorrow… well neither can I. We're living in the moment. Day-to-day. I can't think about the future any more than you can. And I am just as committed to winning this war as you are. Don't you see I have more reason that ever to feel that way now I have my father's mistakes on my conscience, too?"

"Are you saying what we had is enough for you?"

She put both hands on his arms, locking eyes with him. "I miss you. I need you. I am quite unreasonably desperate for what we had, yes. I wish you would respect me enough to accept that, and not be so arrogant as to assume you know better."

"And what if I were to say that you can't make _me_ happy, that you should leave now before… before…" He paused, his warm breath fanning her lips.

"Before?" She leaned in. She couldn't help it.

He raised a hand and traced a circle on her cheek with his thumb. "Before we do something we both regret."

"Don't do that."

He repeated the motion on her cheek, slower this time, and it felt as though sparks were igniting on her skin. "That?" he whispered.

"No," she murmured, struggling to speak. "I meant don't _lie_ to me."

"Chloe." His mouth dipped towards her a fraction, then he closed his eyes and backed off again.

Her fingers tightened on his arms. "Please. Just tell me, while I have few shreds of dignity left, if you want this. If you want me."

"I—" Obi-Wan began, then stopped, his hand dropping away from her face. "Oh, not now…"

"Obi-Wan! This is where you've been hiding!"

Chloe jerked around in alarm at the loud, male voice to find Bail Organa striding towards them. He glanced to Chloe then back to Obi-Wan. "Ah, am I interrupting? Hope not. I don't believe we've met."

The Prince and Viceroy of Alderaan, resplendent in rich blue robes trimmed with silver, grinned at her and held out his hand.

Registering Obi-Wan's long exhale, Chloe managed a mumbled hello and a limp handshake.

"Chloe O'Brian, Bail Organa," Obi-Wan said, with a curt, clearly irritated flick of his hand.

Bail seemed either unaware or unperturbed. "Old friend, I'm here on important business. The Queen has requested your presence. I believe you owe her a dance."

"I'm a little busy, just at the moment."

Bail flashed Obi-Wan a roguish smile. "Ah, Obi-Wan, where is your festive spirit? Besides, to refuse the Queen would be treason, and I'm afraid I would be forced to have you executed."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Bail. Could you please send Breha my apologies—"

"It's okay," Chloe said, "It's freezing in here, anyway; I need to warm up." She linked her arm through Obi-Wan's and steered him in the direction of the door. "And I'd hate you to lose your head over me."

* * *

Chloe managed to duck out of Bail's gallant offer to accompany her in the dance, and settled herself at the side of the dance floor, watching Obi-Wan dance with the Queen, watching everyone else watching them. Obi-Wan did not catch her eye. He wore that distant, serene expression that he used to hide the very deepest contemplation.

So he was thinking it over. Chloe bit her lip. She had said her piece, had presented her argument to Obi-Wan as best as she could. Now it was a question of whether he really wanted to be with her: whether he trusted she was truly prepared to accept the limitations of his situation, and whether he was prepared to defy Mace Windu and the other Council hard-liners.

Chloe tore her eyes away from the dancers, scanning the room for Matty. But her friend was nowhere to be seen. She was relieved, in a way, because Matty would almost certainly have expected her to have working things out with Obi-Wan by now, have got an answer one way or another, and she would probably be acutely disappointed that the situation had not yet been resolved. Perhaps it would have been, if it were not for blasted Bail Organa and his terrible timing.

The music had stopped. Chloe turned back to see the dancers parting, bowing, curtseying, laughing, kissing hands. She spotted the Queen, surrounded by courtiers, but where was Obi-Wan? There was no sign of him. Her heart thudded. She frowned, searching the crowd, panic beginning to rise when she still couldn't see Obi-Wan. He wouldn't have slipped away, would he, without finishing their conversation?

Something touched her arm.

"Chloe."

She spun round at the sound of his voice, a smile breaking across her face. "There you are! I thought for a moment you'd left."

"Never." Before she had time to realise what he was doing, Obi-Wan had cupped her face in both his hands and was pressing a single, soft kiss to her lips.

Breathless, she looked up at him. "So you…?" was all she could manage.

"If you're certain this is what you want." he said, quietly serious, his hands still on her face.

She had never been more certain in her life. "Yes."

"Then so am I," he said, smiling that wonderful crumpled smile, dipping his head to deposit another kiss on her lips. "So am I."

"Everyone to the floor for the country four-step!" came the shout from someone behind them. The music started up again: a bright, lively tune, and a ripple of a cheer went around the room as people jostled towards the dance floor.

Obi-Wan held out his hand. "Well?"

Chloe's brain caught up. "Oh no, I couldn't. I can't."

Obi-Wan grinned at her. "Everyone has to dance to this one. I'm not sure you can get out of it."

She took his hand, reluctantly. "Let me guess. Treason again?"

He bent to whisper in her ear as they walked. "Don't worry, I have a plan."

Chloe survived the first two verses, partly due to the haphazard nature of the dance, which seemed to rely more on enthusiasm than skill, and partly due to Obi-Wan deftly steering her out of the way of collisions and supporting her weight whenever she was close to stumbling.

And then, somehow, just before the third verse kicked in, he spun her and they danced a few steps in a strange direction, and suddenly they were out, away from the crowd and only seconds later they were outside of the ballroom, in a quiet corridor, completely alone.

Chloe looked around approvingly. "Nice work, General Kenobi."

He grinned. "I do my best."

She straightened the fold of his jacket lapel, smoothing her hand over the thick gray wool. "Do you have any idea how ridiculously attractive you look in this? I must be the envy of every woman in that room."

The corners of his eyes crinkled. "Let me tell you something," he said, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. "You're the only one that matters." Then he drew back just far enough to fix his gaze on her: no longer the gray she had grown accustomed to, but that beautiful, sparkling blue-green. "You're the one I love."

He placed his hand over hers, holding against his chest.

Chloe, meanwhile, had forgotten how to breathe.

His brow creased. "I hope you believe me."

She smiled, nodded, unable to speak.

He pulled her close. Stroked the tears on her cheeks.

"See what you do to me," she whispered, drifting her lips closer to his. "I'm hopeless. Lost."

"Let me help with that."

"Yes." It was little more than a whisper, and a second later, their lips touched, lingering, savouring the moment when barest contact became a kiss. Chloe pressed her eyes shut, melting into him, unsteady on her feet, slipping one arm around his waist for support, relishing the feeling of his arms wrapping around her, pulling her even closer.

And there it was. Stars and music and fireworks and cheering—

_Cheering? _

"Woohoo! Get a room!"

—and heaven shattered into the laughter and whistles of the gang of kids ogling them.

"I don't believe it," Obi-Wan gritted out, one arm firm around her waist.

"Oh, of course _you_ were never a teenager, were you Obi-Wan?" Chloe said, giving them a little wave, then winding one hand into his hair and yanking him into a long, luscious kiss that generated yet more laughter and an even louder cheer.

With a groan, Obi-Wan gently prised her away. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, flashing the gang a stern look and steering her towards the door. "Although, one of them had a point, about the room." Then he quickly added, "I mean, if you… erm… want… if that's what you…"

She held a finger to her lips in exaggerated contemplation. "Err, let me think about that for a nanosecond. Yes."

He grinned. "Where are you staying?"

She shook her head. "No good. I'm sharing the tiniest room imaginable with Matty. After we'd found out how much the outfits and hair was going to cost we could barely afford that. How about you?"

He pointed out of the window, into complete darkness. "Up there."

"You've not got a room in the palace?"

"I didn't have use for one."

She peered into the gloom. "And how exactly do we get up there?"

"That's the interesting part."

"Sounds ominous."

He chuckled and folded his arms, assessing her ballgown with fake disapproval. "Just please tell me you brought along a coat."

* * *

**A/N:**

Woohoo! Well, there you go, it's been a long time coming, and I hope it didn't disappoint. Please join me for the next and final chapter, the grand finale. :)


	27. The Goddess of the Dawn

**Chapter Twenty-seven: The Goddess of the Dawn**

The cabin was almost invisible in the darkness, a shadow half-buried in the snow-covered hillside. Originally occupied by nerf herdsmen working the summer pasture, it was now used as a scientific observing station, except, of course, when anti-sociable Jedi guests of the Organas required accommodation outside of the palace.

Obi-Wan dismounted from the speeder, landing in a thigh-deep snowdrift. Chloe put one arm around his shoulders and swung her legs over the edge of the vehicle to follow, but he swept her into his arms before the toes of her sandals touched the snow, ignoring her half-hearted protests and striding to the cabin's door.

Inside the small hallway was pleasantly warm and welcoming in contrast to the frosty mountain air outside. They shed their outer layers, laughing awkwardly as they bumped elbows in the tiny space. "Um… where should I…" Chloe said, searching for a hook.

"Oh… yes. Here, let me." Obi-Wan took her coat in the same hand as his robe and hung them both somewhere behind him, his eyes on her all the while.

_It's so quiet here_, Chloe thought, hyper-aware of her thudding heart and unsteady breathing. Feeling a little bit light-headed, she looked down at her hands. "So. Here we are."

"Mmm," he said, moving closer. He raised a hand and ran his fingers over a lock of her hair before stopping suddenly. "Chloe?"

She looked up to find that now familiar expression of tender concern.

"Are you alright? You're trembling."

"It's been an eventful few days."

"Of course. The time difference… the disorientation of the journey… I'd completely forgotten. You must be exhausted." He gently tilted her chin upwards and studied her face. "But it's more than that, isn't it? When was the last time you slept properly?"

"On the ship to Terminus. With you."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, the touch on her face becoming a caress. "Do you remember what I said, that night?"

"I…"

_Oh._

The truth was she really hadn't, not until now.

"What would it be like to be together, like this, every night," she said, quietly. "I… I didn't realise. It didn't even occur to me." He had practically told her how he felt, back then, if only she'd not been too caught up in her own insecurities to really _listen_.

But the regret was not solely hers. "It's my fault," Obi-Wan said. "I'm sorry. I should have just come straight out and told you..."

She took his hand. "Forget about it. What matters is we're here now. Together."

He smiled. "And alone, at last."

She looked up at him skeptically. "You're sure of that?"

"Oh, absolutely…" he murmured, leaning closer.

Chloe smiled and then reached up, taking his face in her hands and pulling her mouth against hers. Obi-Wan sighed and sank into the kiss, one arm sliding around her waist, the weight of his body pressing her back against the wall.

Chloe could not kiss him—be kissed by him—and think at the same time, and when, after only a short time, he pulled away, breath ragged, resting his forehead on the hand that was still against the wall, she was confused, and worried for a second that something was wrong.

Then Obi-Wan raised his head and glanced to the door, flashing a grin that made her heart skip a beat. "See. Nothing."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, trying to act nonchalant, which was ridiculous given that his arm around her waist was the only thing stopping her from swaying and tottering to the floor. "No sign of Prince Organa?"

"Not a trace."

"Jocasta Nu?"

"Certainly not."

"Master Yoda?"

"Master _Yoda? _I don't ever remember..."

She cast a suspicious glance at the other door, the one that presumably led to the main room of the cabin. "No, me neither, but if he was waiting in there for you I wouldn't be surprised."

Obi-Wan groaned. "Don't say things like that." He kissed the tip of her nose, then backed up to the internal door. "No one's going to interrupt us. I promise. Now… just wait here for a moment, will you?"

"Oh. Sure."

Chloe watched, amused, as Obi-Wan opened the door and slipped through, closing it behind him before she got a chance to peek inside.

She smiled to herself and poked the toe of her shoe in the puddle of melting snow at her feet, wondering whether it was at all possible that the persistently neat Obi-Wan had left his room in a mess.

A few moments later, the door opened, widely this time, and Obi-Wan welcomed her inside.

It wasn't a mess he'd been attending to, of course, but the fire, which now burned brightly in the little stove, and the row of candles on the windowsill, their flames flickering in the draught from the door. Chloe took in the single easy chair that stood at one side of the stove, the neatly made-up bed that was pushed up against the wall at the other side, and the polished wooden floor, covered next to the bed by a faded rug. Under the window was a small table and chairs and behind it a tiny kitchen unit.

"As you can see it's a little on the cosy side," Obi-Wan said, closing the door then crossing the room to her, slipping his arms around her waist from behind. "I don't think it was really designed for company."

Chloe snuggled back into his embrace, thankful that any remaining awkwardness and uncertainty between them seemed to have been left behind in the hallway. "That's not true. You have two dining chairs."

"Hmm. Good point." He pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder then trailed his lips along the ridge of her collar bone. "And there's a bottle of Bail's finest brandy lurking somewhere. I should probably be offering you a drink..."

"I think… that's enough… small talk…" she struggled to say, sighing as he swept her hair aside so he could kiss her neck. His hands moved to her waist, smoothing over the thick satin of her dress, sliding upwards, his mouth closing over her ear, biting softly, making her gasp when she felt his tongue flicker over the same spot.

"I can't… I can't stand…" she murmured, eventually, but the sentence fragmented into another sigh as his fingers traced the neckline of her dress, his lips leaving trails of fire on her skin.

"Can't stand what?" he said, beginning to pull away, concern in his voice.

"Up. Can't stand… _up_. Not for much longer, at any rate." She smiling hazily up at him and clamped his hand back in place, remembering the first time that had been literally true. "As you may recall, my legs have a tendency to give out in your presence."

He pressed a kiss to her temple, sliding both arms around her waist to support her weight. "Oh. And I thought that was down to low blood sugar."

"Nah. It was you and your voice and your… your everything. In fact, if I hadn't known you were a Jedi, I might have suspected you were doing it deliberately in an attempt to seduce me."

He chuckled. "I can assure you my motives were quite proper, even if some of my thoughts were not entirely so."

She twisted to look at him. "Really?"

"Oh yes. And if Anakin had not arrived I think I may have done something highly inappropriate."

"Like what?"

He raised a hand to trail his fingertips up along the exposed curve of her neck, then slowly drew her into a kiss that started off gently but finished with his tongue sliding boldly across hers, leaving her whimpering as he pulled away.

"Something like that."

"I'm not sure I'd have survived the night," she murmured, flooded suddenly by the memories of those early days, the intensity of their first night together, and how quickly she had fallen for him, even though every rational part of her told her she should not.

Except that somehow, all along, she had been right.

Shaking herself back into the present, Chloe ran her hands over his, feeling his arms around her, reminding herself that, in as much as he could be, he was hers. "How long do we have here?" she said, realising how precious their time alone was. "When do you have to leave?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Midday tomorrow. I have meetings scheduled on Coruscant, and much as I wish I could stay here… "

"I understand," Chloe said, unable to suppress a sigh of her own. "The war will not wait." Banishing the unwelcome prospect of tomorrow and the tough reality of everything that lay ahead, she twisted in his arms. "Come on," she said, pushing him backwards towards the bed, only stopping when the back of his legs hit the wooden frame. "You first." She gave him a little push, and watched as he took the hint and sat down.

Chloe stepped forward to stand between his knees, smiling down at his flushed face and unkempt hair. He opened his mouth to speak but she held a finger to his lips. "Hush," she chided, stroking his face, running the backs of her fingers over his cheeks, then turning her hands and tracing her fingertips along his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his bearded jaw. "I thought I'd never be able to do this again." She gently cupped his cheeks and pressed her lips to his, pouring all her love and depth of feeling into that single kiss, hoping he could somehow feel what was beyond her powers of description.

When she pulled away, his blissful smile told her he did.

And that was all the reward she needed. She would face anything if it meant she could make him smile like that.

Well that and a few other ways, too. She mock- frowned and plucked at the material of his jacket. "Hmm. Much as I like this, I think you might look better with it off."

He raised an eyebrow but complied, yanking his arms out of the sleeves, eyes locked with hers. Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt, working to free him of it, too. His chest bared to the subdued light, Chloe smiled, tangling her hands in his hair and pulling his mouth back to hers, stroking her hands down his neck, along his shoulders and then down his arms, pulling away from the kiss when she reached his fingertips.

She lifted his hands to the criss-cross of ribbons at her chest that fastened her dress, then watched, mesmerised, as his elegant fingers loosening the ties, pulling gently, seductively at each one. When he was done, he looked up at her, his hands still resting on her dress, his expression one of unguarded anticipation and desire, his lips slightly parted, tongue flicking out to wet them.

Unable to resist, she lurched forward to kiss that sinful mouth again, the sudden movement pressing his hand against the exposed curve of her breast. Her moan was echoed by his and his fingers tightened on the bodice of the dress and yanked it roughly away, ribbons fluttering to the floor as his cool hand cupped her soft flesh fully, thumb circling her nipple, making her moan again.

She pushed at him again and he got the message, tipping backwards on to the mattress, bringing her with him, the stiff material of the dress staying behind, a crumpled cocoon on the floor.

Straddling him, she frowned as something uncomfortable dug into her thigh. His hand closed on her hip. "Wait," he said, cursing mildly, half-laughing, and then unclasped his belt, lightsaber still attached, before sliding it off and tossing it to the end of the bed.

Encouraged back by his hands on her hips, she slowly settled her weight on him, feeling his arousal through the fabric layers still separating them. Acting on instinct, she rocked her hips against him, leaning forwards so her hair fell down, ticking his face. His hand went to her cheek then rubbed across her lips. She sucked his finger into her mouth, running her tongue along the length until she heard his breath quicken. Then she decisively guided it back to her breast so he could touch her again, in that particular way he had—not too roughly—not too softly—while his other hand stroked down her side to her hip, lingering there, fingers playing with the edge of her underwear.

"Mmmm..." She lifted her hips, intending to give him better access, but he moved his hand further away. Their gazes locked as he skated his fingers back up the inside of her thigh…

And paused.

Chloe frowned in frustration but then saw the question in his eyes, and smiled when she realised what he meant. After everything they had been through, after everything she had confessed, he was still asking permission.

"Obi-Wan. Please," she said, dropping her lips to his ear. "Touch me. I think I'll die if you don't."

And only then, very slowly, did he move his thumb, rubbing her softly through the silk.

Chloe exhaled slowly and let her head fall down, her eyes drifting shut, a moan tumbling from her lips as he honed in on the point of greatest pleasure, rubbing deliberately slowly, the silky material affording only the barest friction. "More," she pleaded, canting her hips into his touch.

She gasped as he responded immediately, fingers slipping under the material and sliding through her wetness. He groaned quietly, approvingly, his other hand gripping her hip, the thumb finding its way to direct contact with her slick flesh, tracing steady, exquisite circles, softly, not teasingly, but leisurely, as if his only goal was _this_.

Chloe lost all sense of time as she gave herself over to him, utterly and more completely than she ever had before. At some point her underwear joined the remainder of his clothing, kicked down towards the bottom of the bed, and they shifted position, his warmth and weight now above her, skin against skin, his lips on hers, his hands seemingly everywhere at once.

Her state of arousal was dangerously precarious. Obi-Wan was being careful, but one stray touch could easily send her over the edge. She fumbled for each of his hands, intertwining and locking their fingers, prying her heavy eyelids open to see him above her. "On your back," she whispered, leaning up to his mouth, sliding her tongue out to taste him.

"Milady," he said, defying the laws of physics to reverse their positions again while their hands remained locked together, on the pillow now, at either side of his head.

Chloe smiled down at the image of him, happily acquiescent below her. "You know, I think this might be the answer," she said quietly, flexing her fingers.

"To what?"

"To you not playing fair."

"I'm sorry… In what sense—"

"In the sense of one moment I was undressed you, the next I'm naked and completely under your spell."

His eyes glinted. "And you would have me believe you don't like that?"

She leant down to drift her lips against his. "l think you know I do. But… has it ever occurred to you that you're a tad competitive about this?"

"Meaning?"

She sat up again. "On occasion you may find it in your interests to let me win." She disentangled her fingers from his and gently encircled his wrists. "Which I intend to do one day, even if I have to tie you up, General." And for good measure, she made a concentrated effort to envision him below her, ropes binding his wrists to the headboard, straining against them as she pleasured him, slowly and deeply, with her mouth.

"Sith hells… Chloe… uhh…" Obi-Wan's voice was deliciously roughened as his hips jerked up beneath her. "You…." He gasped, smiling at the same time, "you don't know your own power."

"Really. Language, Obi-Wan," she said, with a grin, adjusting her position so should could slide her hand delicately over his erection, light touches quickly giving way to the steady and slow strokes she knew he liked.

Obi-Wan's eyes were closed, his head tipped back into the pillow. "Mmm… so good… nggghhh…"

Impossibly turned on by the sounds he was making, Chloe quickly shuffled down the bed and replaced her fingers with her tongue, savouring the taste of him before taking him fully in her mouth. Obi-Wan grunted, his hips snapping forward, taking her by surprise. He hissed a curse, and rested his hand lightly on her head. "Sorry."

Unperturbed, she regained her rhythm and stretched one arm out, sliding it up along his abdomen and chest, finding a nipple and rubbing it, enjoying his moan and the pulsing of his flesh against her tongue.

All too soon, his fingers wound into her hair. "Sweetheart," he ground out. "I won't… can't… last… much… longer."

She let him pull her up, to claim her mouth again, his tongue swirling around hers. Her hand strayed back down, but he caught her wrist. "Just let me…" he paused, eyes burning her like blue fire. "Be inside you. I need to. Please."

She nodded and took both his hands in hers, settling herself astride his thighs. "Like this?"

"Yes." He smiled, and raised a hand to her cheek. "You are so beautiful." He brought his lips to hers very softly, kissing her while his hands stroked over her waist, round her bottom, tracing patterns on her inner thighs before drifting upwards again, his touch making her tremble. "So beautiful," he murmured again, easing her forward, guiding her hips until she could feel him nudge the entrance to her body. "Ready?"

"Yes." She bit her lip, letting out a long sigh as she sank down onto him. Felt him stretch her, fill her. "Don't hold back," she pleaded, as they began to move, finding a rhythm, delighting in each glide of flesh against flesh. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, messy kisses, tongues thrusting, teeth clashing. His hands were on her hips, grinding her onto him, and the closeness was exquisite even if she was not quite comfortable, but what did it matter if she couldn't walk in the morning?

Obi-Wan stilled his movements as if he had read her thought. "Sorry, sweetheart, let me…" She felt his arms shake as he lifted her slightly, adjusting the angle and retreated out of her body almost completely, catching her whimper of protest and holding her gaze with his before sliding back into her slowly, stretching her again, his hard shaft rubbing exquisitely across the exact point that would give her the most pleasure.

Then again.

And again.

_Too much_. It was all too much. The taste of his mouth, the touch of his hands, the restrained strength of his body, against her, in her, filling her, completing her. She should wait… she should make it last… but how could she when he was cupping her cheek in one hand and telling her to let go, that he was right with her, that he wanted to feel her come?

Chloe fluttered open her eyes, needing to see him, needing to memorise this moment. Obi-Wan smiled at her, lacing their fingers together, his other arm wrapping around her waist as their bodies continued to move, hot and slick and perfect.

And _there._

She cried out as her orgasm engulfed her, taking her breath and vision away with its power. Distantly, she heard Obi-Wan shout as she tightened around him, his entire body shaking as he followed her, exploding inside her, rocking her gently, riding the waves that surged around them, holding them together, so close, so _right_.

And then he was kissing her gently, and tipping her down to the mattress, collapsing there, stroking her hair, whispering tender words, her numb limbs tangled with his amidst the cool sheets.

* * *

Eyes closed, Chloe drifted back to reality slowly, smiling as she felt Obi-Wan's fingers tracing patterns on her arm, then her wrist, then her hand. He brought it to his lips, kissing each of her fingers. She giggled. "Tickles."

"Sleepy?"

"No. Just comfy. And thirsty, actually."

Obi-Wan sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Brandy, snowmelt, or Republic Army-ration tea?"

"I'll go with the tea. Lots of sugar."

Chloe hugged the sheet and blanket around her knees contentedly as she watched Obi-Wan remake the fire and brew tea in two large mugs. They sat in bed, drinking tea and chatting happily about nothing in particular.

"We should pay Dex a visit," Chloe said. "He'll be glad to know we've working things out. He saw it, you know, between us. I didn't believe him. I'll have to apologise and find a way to make it up to him."

"Or just eat every cake he ever offers you for the rest of your life."

She laughed. "I was already doing that. After all, if he hadn't followed me in his speeder that day, you might never have found me."

Obi-Wan's humorous expression vanished and he swallowed, looking down at his drink. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to repay him for that."

"Don't forget Anakin," she said, changing the subject with determined optimism. "If he hadn't told me why you'd come to Alderaan, I wouldn't be here."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan said, frowning, and Chloe wondered why he was always so incredibly guarded about his Padawan. Loyalty, perhaps. It was clear that Obi-Wan had found training Anakin something of an ordeal, but Chloe suspected the affection between them ran deeper than either would admit. And Chloe _liked _Anakin. He had been nothing but open, friendly and generous with her, right from the start.

"Force knows how he's going to react when I go in and tell the Council I won't be taking the celibacy vow after all," Obi-Wan said, looking glum.

"He'll be pleased, surely," she said, confused. "He cares about you. He wants you to be happy."

"Yes," he said quietly. "I know."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I am supposed to be his mentor. His role model. I can hardly expect him to respect and obey the rules of the Order while flouting them myself."

"You are hardly flouting them. Surely there are many Jedi who have made more controversial decisions."

"Yes, but that is not the point. It is not a case of comparing myself against others. Anakin's training is an immense responsibility. Qui-Gon was convinced Anakin would fulfil the prophecy of the Chosen One. And in my promise to train Anakin I pledged to be the best Master I could possibly be, not only to myself, but to…"

His voice trailed off, great sadness in his eyes, and it seemed to Chloe that he was suddenly laid bare to her, revealing his most private thoughts.

_So that's part of the reason he strives for unattainable perfection. Not as and end unto itself, but to honour the memory of a man who died over ten years ago._

And with that thought she realised. Tenderness swept through her. She raised and hand to his face. "That's why you understood how I felt about my father, isn't it? You felt the same way about Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan was still and silent for a while before he nodded, eyes unfocused. "It took me years to accept his death. I still fight with frustration that he left me… and I still strive to live up to what he expected of me. If I were to find out he'd betrayed everything I believed in… even now… I fear it might destroy me. Not thoughts becoming of a Jedi at all, but yes, they did help me understand your grief, and your need to hold on to your father's integrity. Not that I handled that situation very well, either."

"Oh, Obi-Wan. I wish you could see yourself as I see you."

He smiled a little and thanked her silently, reaching to her hand on his cheek and turning it to kiss her palm.

"As for Anakin…" she ventured, "do you not think he might be mature enough now to appreciate knowing you're only human, just as I do?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and peered into the bottom of his mug. "Possibly." Then he looked up at her with a half-smile. "Maybe."

"Good," she said, smiling back at him. "I'm glad we agree."

They sat in contented silence for a while, before a flash of something at the window caught Chloe's eye.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked Obi-Wan, who was already up and half-way across the room.

"No. Quite the opposite," he said, rubbing condensation from the glass. "In fact, if it's what I think it is, you'll want to see this. Quick. Get dressed."

They threw on layer upon layer of clothing and headed outside, Chloe shuffling awkwardly in a pair of far-too-large snowboots Obi-Wan had found in the closet.

"Up here," Obi-Wan said, helping her into the speeder, where the seats afforded them a comfortable view of the clear night sky.

"We've missed it," Chloe said, turning her eyes hopefully to the north.

"No. It's coming again. I can feel it," Obi-Wan replied, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. "Look."

"Oh…" was all Chloe could manage, spellbound, as colour suddenly erupted into the sky, green at first, then yellow, then pink, ripples of light, dancing as if they were alive…

"_Aurora_, they call it here," whispered Obi-Wan. "The Goddess of the Dawn."

As they watched the display in awestruck silence, Chloe recalled childhood stories of the polar lights that sometimes occurred on distant, sparsely-inhabited planets. But no description could do this justice. This was… magnificent.

She turned to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's very rare. Scientists camp out up here for months just to catch a glimpse of it."

"Then we're very lucky."

Obi-Wan said nothing. She looked at him."Oh, I get it. Jedi do not believe in luck. Only…"

"Only the will of the Force."

Chloe turned her eyes back to the shimmers of colour painting the sky, and spoke quietly, her whisper vastly insignificant against the majesty of it all. "And what would a Jedi call this, then?"

"A gift. Or, perhaps, a sign. Or a…"

When he didn't continue, Chloe glanced at him. "What? Or a _what?_"

He smiled at her impatience. "You may find it somewhat… sentimental."

"Try me," she said. "No more secrets, remember? Or a what?"

Obi-Wan tilted her face to his, and she had never seen his eyes so full of _hope_.

"A blessing," he said.

And Chloe could swear that Aurora's colours burned even more brightly above them, as if the Goddess herself was somewhat sentimental, too.

"I love you," Obi-Wan whispered, against her cheek.

With a smile, Chloe relaxed into his embrace, knowing that finally, she was home.

And exactly where she was meant to be.

* * *

From my soundtrack for this story: We've Got Tonight, by Bob Seger

_I know it's late, I know you're weary,_

_I know your plans don't include me,_

_Still here we are, both of us lonely,_

_Longing for shelter, from all that we see,_

_Why should we worry? No one will care girl,_

_Look at the stars, so far away,_

_We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?_

_We've got tonight babe,_

_Why don't you stay?_

_Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely,_

_All of my hopes, fading away,_

_I've longed for love, like everyone else does,_

_I know I'll keep searching, even after today,_

_So there it is girl, I've said it all now,_

_And here we are babe, what do you say?_

_We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?_

_We've got tonight babe._

_Why don't you stay._

_

* * *

_That's it folks! Writing this story has taken far more out of me than you'd probably ever guess! I'm going to be taking a break from fanfiction for a little while now, to recharge my batteries and work on some other exciting projects. Thanks for reading, for every single one of your comments, for liking my OFC, for indulging my little bit of escapism, and for helping me (and Chloe) get through to the end!

(And I will, inevitably, be back. Because whatever happens, there will always be Star Wars.)

~Mya S.


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